


Books and Bubble Baths

by Twolittlesparrows



Series: One Day, We'll Get There [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), F/M, Female-Presenting Crowley (Good Omens), First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Genderqueer Character, Genderqueer Crowley (Good Omens), Honeymoon, Light Bondage, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Other, Pining, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Service Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), They/Them Pronouns for Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:47:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25645303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twolittlesparrows/pseuds/Twolittlesparrows
Summary: Traversing new ground in a relationship is never easy, add thousands of years of baggage and it might seem impossible.But with a little softness, care and damn well using your words, maybe something beautiful can be built. Aziraphale and Crowley break new ground together, exploring the world, and each other, in their own time.With bags packed with books, snacks, and an overflow of emotions, these bitches are going on holiday.---The shop door bell tinkled faintly. Yet the door was locked. The angel didn't look up. His heart, however, did an excited little flip. Aziraphale didn't stop taking the books out of the box even as pale arms snaked down over his shoulders. He smiled to himself, feeling the brush of hair on his cheek and the pleasing weight of Crowley leaning on him.'Hello, Angel...' the demon purred, yawning softly.'When you said you were going for a nap, dear boy, I didn't realise you meant for six months,' Aziraphale said, running a gloved finger down the books spine.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: One Day, We'll Get There [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1919071
Comments: 37
Kudos: 130





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my work, please consider giving me a follow on Tumblr at [Neon-Goblin-Art](https://neon-goblin-art.tumblr.com) I post fanart and updates there :D Thanks!

Closing down the bookshop had an almost meditative feeling. The clock ticked over and Aziraphale turned the key in the ancient metal till. The draw popped out with gentle ping. Unfortunately, there had actually been customers. He methodically counted, then placed the coins and notes in little baggies. 

The shop was silent, save for the ticking of the clock. With most of the lights switched off, the shadows deepened pleasantly. He took his time, savouring the feeling of a thousand books sighing and settling on the shelves. Being winter, the sun had set long ago and cool air leaked in through gaps in the old walls. Rain began to patter on windows, turning the street lights outside into mottled, ever shifting shapes.

It hadn’t been a bad day. A young gentleman had come in with a box of unwillingly inherited books. The boy hadn’t a single clue what he had, and while Aziraphale wasn’t going to swindle the poor lad, he certainly hadn’t paid anywhere near what the books were worth. He felt a small pang of guilt at that. But really, he’d saved the them from being dumped in a second-hand shop bin, or from sitting unloved on a shelf collecting dust. It wasn’t his fault the lad didn’t do a lick of research. Now the books could sit on his shelf where he could look at them admiringly. 

Aziraphale pulled on his soft cotton gloves, and peeked into the box on his desk. They weren’t in the best condition but nothing a little love couldn’t fix. From the top drawer of the desk, Aziraphale pulled out a metal box. He flicked the latch, and set out his supplies. He rolled a length of cotton on the desk, placing the first book on top. The pages were a little yellowed on the edges and the cover had some odd dark marks, but all and all, not too bad. The angel dabbed a little eucalyptus oil on a soft cloth. He slowly wiped the marks away, happy in his work and breathing in the pleasant scent. 

The shop door bell tinkled faintly. Yet the door was locked. The angel didn't look up. His heart, however, did an excited little flip. Aziraphale didn't stop taking the books out of the box even as pale arms snaked down over his shoulders. He smiled to himself, feeling the brush of hair on his cheek and the pleasing weight of Crowley leaning on him.

'Hello, Angel...' the demon purred, yawning softly. 

'When you said you were going for a nap, dear boy, I didn't realise you meant for six months,' Aziraphale said, running a gloved finger down the books spine. 

Crowley gave a throaty chuckle, 'Was tired.'

'Apparently so -' He shivered, feeling water dripping under his collar, '- If you drip on the books, by golly you'll be sorry! Aren’t you freezing?’ He turned in the embrace, staring directly into his reflection in demon’s sunglasses. His breath fogged the lenses, their noses barely an inch apart. Crowley looked a mess. Their hair was all over the place, clothing rumpled and drenched from the rain. They had the smell of sleep about them, soft yet oddly sour. Crowley slipped away, and the angel felt the absence like a sting. 

The demon shrugged one shoulder, ‘S’ not too bad.’ Hand shoved in their jacket pocket they snooped around the shelves, long fingers walking along spines. 

Aziraphale felt the distance slowly growing. He took a step forward, ‘You should have a bath and warm up. I could get us some dinner -’ Crowley cocked a brow and he sighed. ‘- Alright, get me some dinner and us some wine.’ 

‘What about your date there?’ The demon wiggled a finger at the box of books, ‘Looks to me like you had a full evening planned.’ 

‘They can wait -’ 

‘- Wouldn’t want to impose-’ 

‘- I missed you,’ Aziraphale said bluntly. 

Crowley was still for a second before rubbing the back of their neck, ‘Gonna order in? I could murder a pork bun.’ 

‘As you wish, dear.’ 

Crowley slunk away to Aziraphale’s small flat. The angel listened to their steps fade, then slowly picked up the telephone handset. He waited in the shop for the delivery, hands on his knees. His chest felt tight. He wasn’t mad. Except that he really, really, was. They’d had gaps before, sometimes for decades. But after their little talk/confessions – and even though all they’d done was talk - he hadn’t expected a gap so soon, no matter how small. Their relationship had somehow shifted monumentally, yet also stayed exactly the same. It was just all a bit...new and raw. Which was a very strange feeling when you’ve known someone for thousands of years. 

The rain was hammering down now. When the delivery person arrived, Aziraphale performed a minor miracle – the sweet girl would find that against all odds she was warm, dry and the little tip jar on the shop counter was fuller. He trotted up stairs. 

His flat was small, but comfortable, and really just there for the look of it. With a thought he set the fire roaring, filling the living space with a wave of warmth. He could hear the flow of water from his ensuite, the door slightly ajar. Steam flowed in thick wisps.

‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ He asked, popping on the jug. 

'Nah, thanks though,’ Crowley called. They then gave a happy hiss followed by splashing water. From the sound of it, the demon had forgone their human body, the odd sloshing from the tub signifying that a very large serpent was now coiling in the heat. Aziraphale imagined their little snout poking out of the water and chuckled to himself. He went about setting the table, making himself a cup of tea. The world grew quiet once more. Aziraphale nursed his drink, listening to the rain and the occasional serpentine sigh. 

He got to thinking how a few years ago, after some Hellish job, Crowley had come over, sat on the tile floor of Aziraphale's ensuite and taken scissors to their long red hair. They didn't need to cut it, with barely a thought the demon could change their appearance any which-way, but Aziraphale suspected it was the physicality of the act Crowley wanted. It was a rough job. The angel watched, and poured them both a glass of wine. He hadn’t offered to help. He’d simply waited, sipping his drink and leaned on the door frame. 

Without turning Crowley had thrust the scissors at him. Taking the hint, the angel silently ran his fingers through the demon's hair, evening out the cut to something resembling tidy. Then they drank, yelled and joked about something inane, and never spoke of it. 

But Aziraphale had found himself thinking about it these past months alone. His mind would drift to the feeling of his fingers running though their hair, or how they had leaned back against his legs, head falling forward, long legs bent awkwardly in front of them. How exposed the back of their neck had been and how he had found himself letting his fingers brush along the skin there, feeling the shift of bone under skin. Feeling how very real this creature was. And just how honoured he’d felt being allowed to be the one to touch them when they were vulnerable. 

Aziraphale brought his curled forefinger to his lips and sighed. He’d felt far too alone these last few months, and -

‘I dreamt about you, you know,’ Crowley called from the bath. 

The angel's stomach tightened, knocking from his thoughts. He looked up, staring at the door. 'Did you really?' He couldn't keep the excitement from his voice, a little hitch of breath.

'Yeah – wish it was dirtier though,' The demon snickered from the bath. Aziraphale rolled his eyes. The same old game. A cheeky comment here, a touch of skin there, but nothing would ever come of it. He’d wanted to kiss them that night, half a year ago. Fear held him back and now in its stead was regret. He ran his fingertip over the whorl in the tables grain, ignoring the heat in his cheeks. He was given blessed distraction with the worrying sound of cabinets opening and shutting.

'Oh ho ho, thought you could hide it from me, eh Angel?' Crowley began splashing again.

Aziraphale groaned, 'You always make such a mess! I wouldn't have to hide it if you had any semblance of self control.'

'I like the bubbles!' Crowley hissed.

'Keep them in the tub this time!'

Crowley laughed, unabashed and delightful. The sound was beautiful, and the angel couldn’t help but smile. Make a mess, he thought, it doesn’t matter. Just keep laughing. 

'Angel?’ They called. ‘Do you ever get bored of these little human bodies?' 

'I suppose so, dear, why?'

'I'm gonna have a switch up – I miss having tits.'

'Do you have to be so vulgar?'

They laughed again. Then the ugly sucking sound of the tub draining filled the flat. Crowley sidled barefoot into the main room, long legs bare. They had changed their body in subtle ways from masculine to a more feminine androgyny. The demon was wearing one of Aziraphale's cardigans, the plush (and expensive) garment swamping their thin body. A short black skirt hit them half way up the thigh, peeking out of the bottom of the jumper. They rolled the sleeves, giving the angel a crooked smile. 

Aziraphale watched them snatch up the pork bun, container and all, and sit in front of the fire. Their dark red hair clung in wet whorls around their forehead and down their back. This was all very...domestic. And comfortable. He ate his food in silence, while the demon curled in front of the fireplace, watching the flames dance. The light reflected in their glasses. Crowley held the container in both hands, sighing softly, but not eating. Aziraphale knew it was something they did very rarely, like him with sleep, and he wondered if in all honesty Crowley only did it because he did. 

The food wasn’t great. It wasn’t bad, he didn’t regret his choice of dumplings, but take out was never his favourite – it got too cold too fast and always smelled better than it tasted. 

Aziraphale brought a bottle of wine and two glasses over to his armchair by the fire. He poured, and ignored the uncomfortably organic sound of Crowley lowering one half of their bottom jaw, then the other, gulping the bun down in one go – container along with it. 

‘You’re going to give yourself a stomach ache,’ He tutted, crossing his legs. 

Crowley wrinkled their nose, eyeing him over the rim of their wineglass, ‘Never have, never will.’ They smirked, curling their legs under themself. 

The two of them fell back into old patterns of loose laughter, and loose limbs. Soon the pair were onto their second bottle of wine, the flat hot and the world forgotten. 

The top button of Crowley's cardigan was undone and the soft wool slumped down, revealing one pale, bony shoulder. The demon was talking, hands waving in the air, but Aziraphale wasn't listening. He watched as a bead of water from their still damp hair trailed down their neck, and along their prominent collarbone. He peeled his eyes away, focusing now on the flush of his companion's cheeks, the way the colour met the tips of their ears. And how as they smiled, giggling at their own joke, he wasn't upset at their absence. How could he be, when this beautiful creature, who once built entire galaxies now sat with their arm draped over his knee and snorted when they laughed?

'Uh, hello?' Crowley waved a hand in front of his eyes. 'Are you fucking ignoring me?' The demon huffed, head cocked to one side, 'Rude. And here I was pouring my weaselly little heart out, laying prostrate at your feet, dear Angel, and you weren't even bloody paying attention!'

Aziraphale flushed red, 'Oh I am sorry, dear boy, I was...distracted.'

'Oh well, that's fine then,' they scoffed, throwing their hands up. 'I'm not going to repeat myself, so I hope it was worth it-'

'-You are,' He said softly.

Crowley paused, a loose lock of hair falling over their face, 'What? No. Really? No... Piss off, Angel.'

Aziraphale chuckled. He leaned forward and gently tucked their hair behind their ear. Even through the sunglasses he could feel the fire-hot touch of their eyes on his skin. They'd stopped breathing as soon as he touched them. What an intense, flighty thing they were. Like a coiled spring. He could almost hear their internal scolding of ‘don’t go too fast, don’t go too fast...’ He could read it in their body language, as if they could curl this human body like a snake about to strike. 

He removed their glasses with reverential care. The demon averted their gaze, their eyes a fraction too big for their face. Aziraphale feared he would always be in awe of how hot Crowley burned inside, and just how much he wanted to feel that heat. 

‘Why haven’t you done a miracle and dried your hair?’ He asked, folding his arms on his knees. 

‘Dunno. Just letting it do it’s own thing, I guess...’ 

‘May I, dear? I could give it a brush, if you like?’ 

‘Oh,’ Crowley fussed at the cardigan, forked tongue appearing briefly to touch the corner of their mouth. They smiled softly. 

‘Indulge me?’

‘Don’t I always...’ They whispered in a breath. Crowley turned, pressing their back against his legs. The words hung in the air, and Aziraphale wondered if he was even supposed to have heard them. 

He ran his fingers through their hair, a hairbrush appearing on his lap. With each gentle run of his hand, their hair dried, settling in waves. Soft. Their hair was always so soft and easily tangled. Crowley slumped against his leg, cheek pressed to his knee. They had looped an arm around his lower leg.

'There,' He whispered, giving their shoulders a squeeze. 'Now you're perfect.'

Crowley tilted their head back to look at him, their neck contorting in such a manner that if they'd been human would mean instant death. Aziraphale bit back a grimace, 'Oh, uh, darling...?'

The demon's head snapped back round, 'Right...bones.' They snorted, scrambling to their feet. Swaying a little, Crowley looped a lock of hair around their finger, ‘Nice job. Very femme -’ 

‘- I should have kissed you,’ Aziraphale said with a sigh. 

‘- What? When?’ Crowley asked softly, wrinkling their nose. 

Aziraphale stood, moving to take a step, ‘On your last visit. I wanted to, but – Oh!’ He tripped, shoes tied together. 

Crowley caught him. They grinned, pointed teeth on display, ‘So you’ve fallen for me, then?’ 

The angel stared up at them, eyes wide. ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ He yelled, batting at their shoulder. Crowley hooted with laughter, head thrown back. Aziraphale grabbed a cushion off the armchair, lobbing it at the hysterical demon. They’d doubled over, arms wrapped around their middle. With a quick motion of his hand Aziraphale whisked away the offending footwear, throwing his arms up, ‘Goodness gracious! You absolute nightmare.’ 

‘Oh nooo,’ Crowley cooed, sidling over to him. They touched his arm, making him turn to face them, ‘I sorry, Angel.’ Large yellow eyes blinked innocently, and the demon pouted, head cocked to one side. Aziraphale looked away, huffing dramatically. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying desperately not to laugh. 

Crowley ran their fingers along his shoulders, feeling the wool tweed of his waistcoat. They fiddled with the collar of his button up, and Aziraphale bit his lip. They were standing so close. He could smell his soap on them, hear their breathing. His heart pounded in his chest. A cold hand touched his cheek. 

Aziraphale looked up into those strange yellow eyes, and felt the world shift. Nothing else mattered right now, there was nothing in the world that meant more to him than this, was as real. 

‘Gosh, but you are a beautiful thing,’ He whispered. 

Crowley rolled their exquisite eyes, ‘You’ve already caught me, you know. You don’t have to keep flattering me.’ 

‘Yes. I do,’ Aziraphale, said softly. Then he smirked, feeling a little thrill, ‘Wait...I’ve caught you, have I?’ He placed his hands on Crowley’s waist. 

Crowley clicked their tongue with a curled lip, lowering their hands to his chest, cheeks flushing red. They sucked in a sharp breath. The angel wrapped his arms around them, holding them against his body. They locked eyes. Then Aziraphale placed a gentle hand on their cheek, and closed the space between them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Consent. Is. Sexy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my work, please consider giving me a follow on Tumblr at [Neon-Goblin-Art](https://neon-goblin-art.tumblr.com) I post fanart and updates there :D Thanks!

It was a cliche to say, but when their lips touched it was like a dam burst. Crowley’s arms wrapped tight around Aziraphale’s shoulders. They rose above him so he had to crane his neck to hold contact. A knee bumped against his hip, and he felt the shudder vibrate through the demon’s chest. 

Aziraphale held them with his arms under their backside. Not that he needed to hold them up, they hovered in the air on their own accord, but the feeling of holding them against his body was more than he’d ever hoped. Long nails dug into his shoulders, running up to tangle in his short curls. It sent waves of excitement through him. 

Crowley was too much in the most wonderful way. They tasted smokey and sweet, wine tinted lips. Aziraphale took a step back under the force of the embrace – bumping the table, wine bottle toppling -

‘Oh, bother-’ Aziraphale broke the kiss, turning. 

Crowley clicked their tongue. The bottle froze mid-air, an inch from the rug. Wine and bottle moved in an arc back onto the table as if nothing had happened. It rocked slightly. 

‘Good catch,’ Aziraphale chuckled. 

‘You paid a lot of money for that ugly rug,’ Crowley smirked, then seemed to notice just how much they had wrapped themself around him. To Aziraphale’s regret, they lowered themself to stand on their own. 

‘Sorry,’ they muttered, running an awkward hand through their hair. 

‘Whatever for, darling?’ 

‘Pouncing...’ 

‘Pounce away, dear boy, I thoroughly enjoyed it -’ 

'- There's no like...pressure, right? With this?' Crowley flushed bright red; arms folded tight across their chest. 'Because uh...I'm happy with how we are...and if things were to progress, that'd be an added bonus but...you’ve got a bit more experience than me, as much as I hate to admit it.'

'I want nothing more than what you are willing to give, my love,' Aziraphale whispered, rubbing a comforting hand on their upper arm.

Crowley leaned into the touch, biting their lower lip, 'Yeah. It's just a bit...' They shrugged a shoulder when words failed.

'I know,' Aziraphale sighed. He cupped their cheek, making them look at him, 'You're safe here. I love you.'

Crowley heaved a mighty sigh, ‘It all those bloody toga wearing wankers fault, got you all excited about cheese and grapes and then oh looky here – an orgy. And what was I doing -?’ 

‘- Pushing over urns-’ 

‘Pushing over urns! Setting things on fire! Whispering diabolical machinations in some tosser’s ear. I had a career to think about,’ Crowley sighed, looked at Aziraphale with wide eyes, then hid their face on his shoulder. ‘It's not that I've never been curious! But like...what am I gonna do, fuck a human?’ They shuddered. 

'I have engaged in some wonderful experiences with humans-'

'- Not everyone got to fuck Oscar Wilde, Angel!'

Aziraphale clicked his tongue, running a hand through his hair, 'Are you sure, it seemed that most of London had-'

Crowley snorted, laughing brightly. They playfully pushed him away, covering their red cheeks with their hands, 'You slag!'

Aziraphale’s chest puffed at the indignity, 'How very dare you! Take it back!'

'Shant!'

'Demon!'

'You're a hedonistic little slag and I love you!' Crowley crooned, sticking out their forked tongue with a playful hiss. 

'You really do, don't you?'

Crowley blinked, head cocked to one side, 'As much as a demon can. You're the one who can feel love.'

Aziraphale frowned, 'I'll just have to make sure to tell you everyday, then.' 

'You've been making sure I know for a few thousand years, Angel, I think I'll live.'

Aziraphale wrinkled his nose, shaking his head. What a ridiculous creature. But goodness, how beautiful. Their eyes sparkled in the firelight. 

Crowley worried their bottom lip. Jokes aside, they were trusting him. They'd always trusted him, really, but now it was something more. They were trusting him as a person, an individual, as someone to see them at their most vulnerable. Tread carefully, old boy, he told himself.

Aziraphale touched his thumb to their bottom lip, rescuing it from their bite. Their eyes widened; cheeks sweetly flushed. When he kissed them again, the touch was soft, even with desire burning furiously in his chest. He stroked his knuckles down their neck, feeling their pulse quicken. Crowley whined, lips parting. The kiss deepened, and Aziraphale let his hands wander down to the small of their back, holding them flush against his chest. Crowley felt surprisingly small in his strong arms, as if he’d never truly noticed how lithe they were. All angles where he was plush. 

He ran his hands up under the jumper, feeling the soft fabric of their dress along their back. His fingertips found a patch of skin in the dip between shoulder blades, and he let his nails drag ever so slightly there. Crowley shivered, making another delightful little sound. Aziraphale took his hands out from under the jumper, ghosting lightly over their hips and waist. 

He stopped, hands hovering over the jumpers lower most button, 'May I?'

'...Yes,' came the breathless reply. 

He kissed Crowley once more, then began undoing the buttons. Angel and demon pressed their foreheads together, the latter sucking in sharp breaths as one by one the buttons were undone. Aziraphale took his time, half to give Crowley the space to change their mind should they wish to, but also for his own pleasure. He wanted to savour this, etch every second into memory. Because even if they were to do this again a thousand times, there would never be another moment like the first. 

Hands stopped at the last button, just below Crowley’s collarbone. The demon was biting back a grin, eyes fixed unblinking on Aziraphale. He leaned in, kissed just below their jaw, and slipped the jumper down their arms. He didn’t care that his expensive garment was on the floor, that didn’t compare to the soft skin of his love, to their surprised gasp as he held their wrists for a moment before trailing his fingers up their arms. 

Goosebumps rose on their pale skin. Crowley giggled softly, hair falling over their shoulder. Aziraphale took a step back, unashamedly running his eyes over their body. The thin material of their black dress flowed in soft ripples over their chest and hips. 

'You're so beautiful,’ he breathed out.

'I know,' Crowley tossed their hair back over their shoulder, but smiled ever so slightly.

'Vain creature,' Aziraphale chuckled, slipping his arms around them. He toyed with the fabric of their dress, feeling the silk, ‘Do you want to stay out here, or would you like to go to the bedroom?’ 

Crowley gazed into the fire, their hands on his shoulders. They looked almost bashful, if that was even an expression they knew existed. They were so cool and confident, and awkward or foolhardy, but bashful was a surprising new development. Aziraphale waited for their answer. All that mattered to him was their comfort, and he would never do anything without their confirmation. If he had to stand there for hours while they made up their mind, he would, and if that choice was to end their exploration, he would do so without complaint.

‘We should go to your room,’ They said finally. Crowley broke the embrace to hold his hand. Aziraphale lifted their knuckles to his lips, before leading the way. 

Aziraphale’s bedroom was a lot like the living space – comfortable but not well used. The bed was large though and covered in heavy quilts. There was a stack of books on his bedside table, as well as a couple of forgotten mugs that he cursed himself for. If Crowley noticed them, they didn’t snicker. Instead they leaned in to rest their chin on his shoulder, kissing him behind the ear. He shivered happily. 

‘So,’ they whispered, breath hot on his skin. ‘How do you want me?’ 

Oh, how such few words could weaken him. Aziraphale hummed, then in one swift movement he turned sweeping Crowley up in his arms. They yelped, clinging desperately to him. He carried them to the side of the bed. With one knee on the soft bedding, he gently set them down among his pillows. Their red hair fanned out, stark against the white of the pillows. 

Aziraphale knelt beside them, head to one side as he savoured the sight. Crowley panted, eyes wide, ‘Oh...a bit forward there, Angel,’ They giggled weakly, smoothing out the dress over their thighs. 

‘Did you like it?’ 

‘Absolutely!’ 

The angel grinned, bringing his lips to their neck. Crowley squirmed under him, laughing breathlessly. They tangled one hand in his hair, making his scalp tingle. Aziraphale could feel their cold skin warming at his touch. He delighted in the sensation, propping himself on his elbow. Sucking on their neck, he left marks as if silently claiming them as his own. Perhaps he should have asked, and a small part at the back of his mind fretted but Crowley tugged hungrily at his shirt collar and he didn’t care. 

He placed a quieting hand on their hip, pulling back ever so slightly. ‘My love,’ He whispered against their neck, eyes half closed. ‘May I touch you further?’ 

‘Yes, Aziraphale...please,’ The crackle in their voice spiked through his heart. They didn’t need to beg, not to him, not to be touched and loved and held by him. He shifted to press his forehead to theirs, his free hand slipping under their dress. His fingertips trailed slowly up their thigh, feeling them quiver a little. He watched their face, taking in every detail of how their eyes fluttered when he touched a scar. Crowley chewed their lip, turning to nuzzle into his chest. 

‘Are you okay?’ Aziraphale stopped his hands travels, pausing near where thigh met hip. Crowley nodded, flicking at his waistcoat button, ‘Yes, I really, really am.’ 

‘You can tell me to stop at any point, my darling, you know that, yes?’ 

‘Angel, I know,’ Crowley laughed softly. ‘You’re not going to hurt me.’ 

‘Not unless you ask me to-’ 

‘Oh?’ 

Aziraphale snorted, giggling. He lowered his head to nuzzle into their hair, ‘Let’s leave that discussion for a time where my hand isn’t already up your skirt, shall we? Clear heads are better with that sort of thing.’ 

‘Oh, yeah, sure. Totally,’ Crowley’s large yellow eyes gazed deeply into his own. They reached up, trailing fingertips along his cheekbone and down to his jaw. His skin tingled. 

‘You’re real pretty, Angel,’ They whispered. Aziraphale blushed, taken aback. He couldn't speak, his throat closing. Overwhelmed by the sincerity, of how tenderly they touched him, how vulnerable they were letting themself be with him, and for him, Aziraphale hid his face in the crook of their neck, taking deep breaths.

'Are you okay?' Crowley asked, 'Do you want to stop?' They stroked the hair on his nape, cradling him close.

'I'm fine, my heart, truly,' He pressed himself close, legs tangling with Crowley's. He sighed, 'This is just more than I ever could have hoped.'

'Do I meet your expectations?'

'You surpass them in every aspect, darling.'

Crowley hummed, nuzzling his hair, 'and you haven't even seen me with my kit off.'

'Well, pop it off then, love. There's a good chap.’

Crowley burst out laughing, wrinkling their nose. ‘Too cute, that’s illegal,’ they muttered, wriggling out of his grasp. They knelt just out of Aziraphale’s reach, teasingly flicking the hem of their dress. Reaching behind themself, Crowley slowly undid the lacing on the dress. The thin straps fell off their shoulders, the fabric loosening over their chest. 

Aziraphale held his breath, entranced. Long fingers gathered the fabric, pulling it slowly up long thighs. He longed to reach out, to take their hands away and remove the garment himself. But he waited, basking in the quite moment. In one easy move, Crowley pulled the dress up over their head, back arched, letting it fall to the floor forgotten. 

Aziraphale gasped, ‘You’re not wearing under things!’ 

‘Why would I?’ Crowley laughed, ‘Wanna let my new bits breathe.’ They grinned, a line of white jagged teeth. They leaned forward, hands on their knees, ‘I could add some if you like, maybe with lots of straps and lace -’ 

‘Next time,’ Aziraphale smirked. 

‘Oh? There’s going to be a next time?’ Crowley teased. They looked down, examining their body with pride, ‘I did real good, don’t-cha think?’ 

Crowley ran their hands over their chest, feeling their small breasts, down over their waist and ever so slightly rounder hips. The sight was enough to render the angel speechless. They looked up, meeting Aziraphale’s eyes, ‘Hey Angel? You should get naked too.’ 

Aziraphale broke from his thoughts, ‘Oh! Right-ho.’ He reached for his waistcoat buttons, but Crowley touched his hands, 'Wait... Can I?'

'Be my guest.’ 

With surprising care Crowley slowly removed the waistcoat from him. They shuffled forward, leaning in to kiss his forehead. Aziraphale closed his eyes. Heat fluttering, stomach coiling in anticipation, he revelled in the feeling of Crowley's hands working. They moved his suspenders off his shoulders, letting them fall, long fingers making short work of the shirt buttons. 

Halfway down his chest they paused, slipping a hand under the fabric of his shirt. Nails dragged along his chest, and tugged his singlet down. Crowley held him close with an arm around the back of his shoulders. They pressed hungry, open mouthed kisses to his neck, teeth grazing. He moaned, head falling back. Their fingers roamed his chest, followed closely by their forked tongue.

Aziraphale opened his eyes, and held his breath at the sight of Crowley's curved back, pale in the moonlight. He ran a reverential hand along their spine, feeling the shift of vertebra. Their skin was so cold again. They growled happily under his warm touch, pressing their back upwards, convex against his hand. Sometimes, you could almost forget the serpent that they were. Sometimes. 

They arched back up to meet his gaze, unblinking as they untucked the rest of his shirt. Crowley climbed onto his lap, legs wrapping around him, tugging the fabric away. When the shirt hit the floor it was neatly folded, and Aziraphale had Crowley on their back. 

He had one arm under Crowley’s back, while they moaned softly, tangling their hands in the suspenders. The angel marked their neck again, biting lightly. Crowley gasped and arched their back. They turned to the window, eyes fluttering. Then they snarled, and smacked his shoulder.

‘You’re choking his roots,’ Crowley hissed, pointing to the pot plant on the windowsill. They kissed Aziraphale hard, then growled, pulling back, ‘I can tell from here he hasn’t got the proper drainage-’ 

‘Focus, love,’ Aziraphale cooed and cupped their cheek, pulling them back in to kiss. He needed the contact, the touch of their tongue, the soft little whine that came from the back of their throat. He yanked off his under shirt. The demon damn near purred at the heat of their bare chests pressed together, their body soaking up the warmth. Poor cold blooded thing. 

‘Crowley,’ He whispered, his hand pressed flat on their abdomen. ‘My heart, may I use my hand on you?’ 

They nodded, nibbling their lower lip. Aziraphale carefully angled himself above them so they were using his forearm as a pillow. He leaned down as if to kiss them, but when they rose to meet him, he stayed just out of reach. ‘I want to hear you say it, my darling.’ 

Crowley frowned, squirming under his firm hand on their abdomen, ‘Aziraphale, come on-’ 

‘I don’t want you to beg, but I want to hear you say those words,’ He knew he was being a bastard, but the look in their eyes as they giggled then, turning to nip at his upper arm was worth it. 

‘Aziraphale,’ they purred. ‘I want you to fucking touch me already.’ 

The angel’s firm hand came to rest between their legs, cupping them there, adding enough pressure to make them gasp. He went slow, taking his time to savour the feeling of their slick heat. Crowley parted their thighs for him, eager hips pressing up against his hand. Their lips parted in a barely audible ‘Oh!’ as the angel’s fingers focused on their sensitive skin. 

Aziraphale picked a slow rhythm, delighted at every soft intake of breath, every roll of their hips. They made the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard, and they felt amazing under his touch. When their thighs clenched ever so slightly, he pulled back, muffling their groan with a kiss. ‘Relax, my dear,’ He whispered against their lips, ‘We’ve got all the time in the world.’ He was going to draw this out as long as he could, show this sweet creature just how good they could feel. After all, his hedonistic tendencies were not simply limited to his own pleasure. 

Crowley buried their face against his upper arm, mouth open as Aziraphale pressed his fingers inside them. They gripped his wrist. He stilled his hand, watching them intently, searching for any sign he’d pushed them too far. Muscles relaxed, and their thighs parted even more. Aziraphale kissed their hair, smiling to himself. He worked them steadily, pressing deep. Crowley released their grip on his wrist, instead reaching now to touch themself. 

Together they moved, a loving push and pull. Crowley matched his rhythm. When he slowed, they slowed – even if it was accompanied by a whine and bite to his skin – and when he pressed harder, they sped up, drawing more moans and gasps. 

‘A-Angel!’ Crowley cried out. Their legs began to quiver, their hand faltering. They sucked in a sharp breath, ‘I need more of you.’ 

With one split second miracle the last of Aziraphale’s clothing was gone. He positioned himself above them, their legs wrapping around his hips, drawing him in. Clawed hands dragged along his shoulder blades – and the world warped. 

There are more ways than the earthly to share their bodies – the flash of light, a touch of fire. Time and space shifted around them. Wings formed out of nothing. Matter in the shape of hands ran over dark wings and atoms beyond counting sparked and clashed, burning through one another. Bodies – ethereal and burning – gave and took, a press of power and hunger, with the desperation for it to not stop. Never stop. Names were spoken, cried out, and swallowed. Ancient names, of devouring, of love – an encompassing devotion breathing anew. 

All things reach their peak, and wings curled around bodies, tight laced. Protective. Hands with white knuckle grips, interlocked fingers, and the slow aching shift from rolling pleasure to the fading light. 

The world came back. Breath filled lungs again, human-like bodies that hid the truth of power lay coiled together. Sweat beaded down skin, and slowly, so very slowly, the pair returned to themselves. 

‘Aziraphale...’ His name whispered in love, in awe, was the last thing he heard before he slept for the first time in over a century.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my work, please consider giving me a follow on Tumblr at [Neon-Goblin-Art](https://neon-goblin-art.tumblr.com) I post fanart and updates there :D Thanks!

It was so easy for Crowley to sow little seeds of evil in the world. And the fact they were able to do so while getting breakfast for their angel was an added bonus. They held an impeccably wrapped package in their arms – a package they had forced the shop staff wrap, then pull apart only to wrap again until it was perfect. It had to be, Crowley wouldn’t allow a half-arsed gift for their angel. You don’t get shown that GOOD of a time and NOT at least buy the person some pastries!

They’d woken up a tangled mess. Arms and legs and huge wings splayed and curled together with their angel. They’d never done that – woken up with the heat of another person. They also hadn’t seen their angel sleep in...forever. Crowley had stayed with him, watching the rise and fall of his soft tummy, his arms curled to his chest. His cheek had smushed against Crowley’s shoulder, giving him an off centre pout. 

Crowley eventually crawled out of the bed, legs wobbling. Naked and still fizzing from the night before, they’d snuck into the ensuite. They showered, stole some of Angel’s perfume and examined themself in the mirror. They hadn’t looked any different. Part of them had wondered if there would be something new about them, but there wasn’t – aside from the marks along their neck from their angel’s hungry little mouth. Crowley touched one gently, and smirked. That had certainly been something. While they could easily alter their form and make the marks disappear, they didn’t. Keeping them made everything more real, they couldn’t pretend the night before was just a very realistic dirty dream – it was real, and their angel had claimed them as his. 

They had dressed in a tight (and short) black dress, black stockings and black knee high snakeskin boots with dangerously thin heels. With a wispy red scarf tied at their throat (just because they wanted to keep the marks didn’t mean they wanted anyone else to look at their horny little secret) and hair pulled back into two messy buns on either side of their head they slunk out of the shop. Stiletto heels clicked menacingly on the stone street as if to say: watch out world, I’m newly sexed up! I’m mad, bad and mildly inconvenient to know! 

Package in hand, they trotted back to the shop, bell tinkling sweetly. They placed the package on the table, stepping back to make sure it was perfectly arranged – the shop bell rang. 

Head whipping round, Crowley hissed under their breath. There was a MAN. He smiled when they met his eye. Crowley curled their lip. 

‘Hello-’

‘Go away,’ Crowley strode over, making shooing motions with their hands. The man was taller than them, and white with a mess of brown hair. He picked up a book, turning over uselessly in his hands, ‘I just want to look at some books...’ 

‘You can’t, shops closed. Piss off!’ 

The man smiled, then held out his hand, ‘Okay. You caught me, I actually saw you outside and wanted to meet you -’ 

‘- Ew, grosssss, ’ Crowley hissed – He was ruining their morning! Inside their head a 40 foot serpent was smashing its metaphorical fists on a table chanting “BITE! BITE! BITE! BITE!” Their teeth itched. When ever they felt a strong – and often negative – emotion Crowley’s internal bearings would stop pointing at “person” and start pointing towards “reticulated python” taking their corporal form with it. 

‘- The names David.’ 

‘I don’t care!’ Crowley’s whole faced scrunched in disgust, ‘Do you often follow strangers into buildings? How are you not dead?’ 

‘There’s no need for that -’ 

‘Get out! Now! The shop is closed, and I have no desire what so-fucking-ever of knowing you!’

The human couldn’t see it, but Crowley could feel their fangs growing, their body gaining vertebra, lengthening, bones threatening to crack and warp - 

‘Crowley?’ The most beautiful sound in the world was their name uttered by a puffy faced, bleary eyed angel in a tartan pyjama set and fluffy slippers. The man turned and blinked, ‘....oh.’ 

‘Who are you?’ The angel frowned catching sight of the man. 

‘He followed me in!’ Crowley snarled, ‘Before I could lock the door.’ 

‘Why did you follow my love in here?’ Aziraphale walked slowly over, eyes fixed on the man. 

‘We were just talking-’ 

Crowley backed away with a snarl. The snake inside was thirsting for a fight, and they were not going to give in – especially not when Aziraphale’s books were in the splash zone. 

The angel stood with his hands behind his back, head cocked to one side. ‘We are closed, sir, you really do need to leave.’ 

‘Hey, she came in here too-’ 

‘Of course THEY did. THEY are my partner, you are a pillock,’ The angel gave a steely grin. ‘Vacate the premises on your own accord, before I have to force you out myself.’ 

Crowley barked a laugh, leaning forward to grip the edge of a shelf. Their ribs were on fire. As a defence mechanism, turning into a giant serpent was quite handy. A lot of creatures backed off from the sight of a skinny little person exploding in a cloud of viscera into a 650 pound mass of teeth and scales. But it did wreck havoc on the nerves. 

‘She never said she was married...’ The man whined, slamming the door behind himself. Aziraphale clicked his fingers and the locks slammed into place. 

‘Are you okay – oh... Oh dear!’ Aziraphale gasped. 

Teeth. Crowley was all teeth now, arms limp and useless around their middle. ‘Gotta biiiite ssssssomething!’ 

‘Hang on, my love!’ 

Aziraphale trotted to his desk. He rummaged through the topmost drawer. With expert aim Aziraphale threw a large dog toy at Crowley, who’s body twisted and burst into heavy coils. They caught the toy in their huge jaw, sinking their fangs in deep. With each furious chomp the thing squeaked, lost in the rolling body of the serpent. Crush it! Crush it! 

Somewhere in the background of their mind, Crowley heard their angel putting on the jug. The air was full of his scent – warm, tired, a little sweaty. It was calming. Their heavy body slowly unknotted itself. Aziraphale came back in, carrying two steaming mugs. He sat on the shop sofa with a sigh, ‘Goodness me, what a way to start the day.’ 

‘Bad man,’ Crowley rumbled, punctuating the sentence with a squeak of the chew toy. 

‘Indeed!’ 

The chew toy dropped to the floor, Crowley’s head rising above their knots, ‘If I find who invented misogyny, I’ll give them such a dressing down!’ 

‘Hear, hear!’ Aziraphale held his drink aloft. 

‘They’ll get such a bollocking like no one has ever been bollocked before!’ 

‘Hear, hear...?’ 

‘And I’ll constrict around their horrible, pitiful little body until their bastarding head pops off and flies into the sun!’ 

‘Oh, good lord...’ Aziraphale made a face, looking over at Crowley.

‘Bastards!’ The snake snarled at the world, head aloft, fangs bared. They sucked in a deep breath, then slithered over to the sofa. They looped their body around the entire thing a couple of times, large head placed softly on the angel’s knee. They sighed, ‘....bastards.’ 

‘I know, darling,’ Aziraphale stroked his finger down the centre of their face. ‘I am sorry.’ 

‘I’m not a girl...’ They sighed, ‘And I shouldn’t be upset that some wanker thought I was one! What even is a gender to a thing like me? I wear a body for fun, but it’s not...anything! I’m like a...a...a Muppet! A muppet with a snake instead of a hand up it!’ 

Aziraphale blew out a slow breath, ‘You’re very...descriptive today, my love.’ 

‘But that’s what it’s like! It’s all fake,’ Crowley wobbled their head. ‘So why am I upset!’ 

‘Because you were mistreated,’ The angel ran his thumb over the top of their snout. ‘He shouldn’t have said what he said. Or treated you like he did. You’re allowed to be upset, sweet one. Because you deserve the be treated with respect and to be seen how you wish to present yourself.’ 

Crowley nuzzled their snout into his hand, letting their forked tongue gently touch his wrist. He chuckled softly, and Crowley felt a little thrill at the sound. Comforting. Angel was always comforting and warm. 

‘Got you a treat,’ They purred, pointing the tip of their tail at the package. Aziraphale gasped, grinning, ‘Oh! How thoughtful. You’re so kind, Crowley.’ 

‘Ew, stop it, haven’t I been through enough this morning,’ Crowley mumbled, eternally grateful that snakes couldn’t blush.  
‘Are you going to have a snake day?’ Aziraphale asked, stroking his hand down the back of their head. They liked it when he petted them, not that they’d ever told him. But, they supposed, maybe he already knew. He had such a way of finding what made their little brain turn to goo. 

‘Nah,’ They said, then pried themself away from Aziraphale’s warm, tender hands. ‘Look away while I switch.’ They slunk down behind the sofa, puling their large body tightly together. 

‘Darling, I’ve seen you change a thousand times before, why must I avert my eyes now?’ 

Because you’ve seen me in ways no one else ever has, and maybe ever will, and I don’t know how to cope with the knowledge of being genuinely and wholly perceived in my true state – and to have that state of being be loved so fully. I feel like I’ve been pulled a part, and put back together piece by minute piece, all by your hand, and that isn’t something I have felt since the birth of creation. 

Is what Crowley thought. What Crowley said was: 

‘Cut me some fucking slack, Angel!’ 

Limbs restored, Crowley wriggled their little dress back down over their thighs, and gave their hair a quick pat down. Wrinkle free and fangs safely put away, they sat down beside Aziraphale, and smiled. He didn’t return it. 

'So...' Aziraphale said, staring into the depths of his tea. 'We need to talk about last night, yes?'

'Do we, though?' Crowley sat on their hands to hide the shaking. Nerves made their stomach gurgle. There was no point trying to hide it, that man-shaped force of love and light beside them could see through them in an instant. He was their best friend. He'd seen them at some of their lowest points, he knew them probably better than they knew themself. And that put him at an unfair advantage.

'Yes, Crowley, we do,' He shifted in his seat, and looked at them. Crowley couldn't make eye contact, so they slouched, crossed their legs, hands folded on their stomach and stared up at the cobweb covered ceiling. Build a little wall, enough to peek over but enough to shelter, they thought. Just in case.

'Okay then, Angel,' they said. 'Fire away.'

Aziraphale sighed, 'You were gone when I woke up-'

'- To get you breakfast!'

'Crowley, let me talk. Please?' He sighed again, 'Waking up without you beside me was...a shock. I've never wondered what it would be like to wake up with you there, but I found I had been expecting that.'

'...Sorry.'

'Oh! No, please, you don't need to be,' He reached over and patted their knee. 'Dear boy, what I'm trying to say is when I awoke and you weren’t there I feared the worst. I was worried I had hurt you,’ Aziraphale said. ‘Or frightened you in some way. I’ve hurt you before, and I never want to do so again.’  
‘Ah...But I got over it, so no harm done,’ Crowley lied through their pointy little teeth. Sometimes, in the dead of night they replayed the rejection over and over in their head, or they dreamt it – often accompanied by the smell of smoke and lick of flame. 

‘Hmm,’ Aziraphale sipped his tea, giving them a look. ‘Well I haven’t. So tell me, are you okay?’  
Behind their glasses Crowley closed their eyes and silently cursed themself. Why now were they filled with nerves? They had so many years of quietly thirsting over the angel, of openly flirting and teasing, and now, NOW was when their palms grew sweaty and they wanted nothing more than the earth to open up and swallow them whole. 

'I'm feelin' fine, Angel,' Crowley said with a lazy wave of their hand.

'You're feeling fine?'

'Yeah.'

'Just...fine?'

'Yeah?'

'Right-o, then,' Aziraphale said, crossing his legs. But something in the air told Crowley it was not right-o. Something wasn't right-o at all.

'I mean,' they started, leaning closer with their hands on their knees. 'More than fine, Angel. Really more than fine. I'm good, great even. Tingly.'

'Tingly?'

'All up my spine and my skin,' Crowley gave an awkward half smirk half grimace. 'It's nice. But also, real real weird.'

Aziraphale gave a warm chuckle, setting his tea aside, 'I know what you mean, my love.' Crowley's heart did a horrible little flip at that. They kneaded their chest. I'm never going to get used to that, they thought, this bastard is going to kill me with pet names.

'Why are you rubbing your breast, dear?'

'I'm not! You're making my chest hurt!'

'What? How?'

'By being all good,' Crowley frowned. 'And nice and pretty and soft. Why are you so soft?' Their chest was really starting to hurt now, like their heart was expanding and strangling their lungs.

'Sit down, Crowley, you’re having one of your moments.'

'What?' They were pacing – when did they get up? The room was too hot – why did the angel never open any bloody windows in the place-?

Cold hands. Cold hands at their throat. Instinct said to bite, to jump, to scuttle away into the dark. They stood stock still as Aziraphale delicately untied their scarf. Cool air washed over their skin, followed by a tender touch along the marks still present on their neck and throat. Strong arms wrapped around their middle, and soft curly hair settled under their chin. Crowley's arms hung limp by their side.

'I'm a numpty.'

'Yes you are, but a lovely one,' Aziraphale chuckled softly. He rubbed their back. Crowley pressed their cheek to the top of his head, eyes closed. He smelled like soap. Good soap. Fancy soap with roses in it. It was the most comforting thing they'd ever sniffed. They never wanted to not sniff those roses ever, ever again.

'You need to work on your emotional regulation, though, maybe get a stress ball? We could take a perambulation through the park later -'

'- I want to go home.'

Aziraphale pulled back, frowning deeply, 'Oh.'

Crowley picked up the box of pastries and strode towards the stairs.

'Where are you going?' Aziraphale asked. They could hear the frustration in his voice. Crowley ran, 'Upstairs! I think I live here now!’ 

'What the blazes are you on about?' Aziraphale thundered behind them but Crowley had already placed the box on the table and was sizing up the room.

'I wanna put my desk under that window-'

'Crowley!'

'What?'

'You can't just decide something like that! This is my home-'

'-I think you might be mine, though.' 

Aziraphale heaved a huge sigh, ‘Oh, my heart. You sweet, beautiful fool.’ He rolled his eyes then smiled, ‘Crowley, I want to be with you and around you as much as possible. You don’t have to grip so tightly, I’m not going anywhere. I adore you. But you can’t just decide that you live here. Do you actually want to move in to the shop with me?’ 

‘No, it’s kind of ugly,’ They admitted. ‘And your interior decorating abilities are seriously lacking, Angel. I mean really, tartan curtains? Yellow wallpaper? It’d need a complete do over-’ 

‘Well, golly, thank you for that Crowley,’ Aziraphale laughed, untying the ribbon on the package. He flipped the lid and gasped. ‘Oh! So pretty! Is that almond paste? 

‘And custard.’ 

The smile Crowley got could have lit up the whole world. They could do this. If they could get a smile like that every day, then fuck, maybe they’d be worth something. All they wanted was that smile. That warmth and bite. 

‘Maybe,’ They said carefully, ‘We could have a trial run. Of living together.’ 

Aziraphale nodded, licking sugar powder off his fingers in such a manner that Crowley had to avert their eyes to keep their thoughts on track. ‘Would you move in here? I don’t know if I could move into your apartment-’ 

‘Nah nah,’ Crowley rocked on their heels. ‘Somewhere neutral.’ 

‘Neutral.’ Aziraphale hummed, looking out the window, ‘Like...a holiday?’ 

‘Yeah! Angel,’ Crowley smiled toothily, ‘Wanna go on holiday? Anywhere you like, you pick, I’ll drive!’ 

The angel leaned back in his dining chair, hands folded on the table. He grinned, ‘I’ll go pack.’


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for discussing bodies, food and weight. Very minor and no one is rude to anyone. Also some minor misgendering. There is also a discussion around consent and mentions porn.

It was absolutely pissing. Rain sloshed down the windscreen of the Bentley. Crowley drummed their fingers on the steering wheel, frowning. These winding country roads were a bitch at the best of times, being in the middle of a storm was the worst. Aziraphale tutted from the passenger's side. He wrestled with the paper map, peering through his wire-frame glasses out the window. 'Thank you for slowing down, dear, but I still can't work out where we are.'

'Hang on,' Crowley swung on the steering wheel, launching the car onto a verge. 'I'll get a map up.'

'We have a map.'

'Yeah, I know,' They pulled their phone out of their jeans pocket. 'But this one is better.'

Aziraphale frowned at the device, 'I don't trust those things, you know that.'

Crowley sighed, 'Yeah, babe, I know. But I do, and we're lost, so lets give it a shot, yeah?' They unlocked their phone, swiping through the apps.

'Babe?'

'Yeah?'

'No,' Aziraphale laughed. 'You called me "babe".'

Crowley blushed, not looking up from the screen, 'Nah...Are you sure?'

'I heard you with my own two ears.'

'Oh. Is that...okay?'

Aziraphale closed the space between them, kissing their cheek, 'Yes. Babe.'

Crowley groaned, 'You're going to hold this against me, aren't you?'

'Forever.'

Crowley wrinkled their nose, giving the angel a side-eye, 'According to my superior map the hotel is only about 27 km away.’ They showed Aziraphale the phone. 

He peered at it over the rim of his glasses, ‘I see. And the application believes the trip should take us an average of...30 minutes or so?’ 

‘Yeah, but I betcha I can get us there in 10.’ 

‘But you don’t need to!’ Aziraphale cried as Crowley threw the car into gear. They hurtled around a corner, the angel swearing under his breath. 

‘Did you know I got the first ever speeding ticket?’ Crowley grinned. 

‘Yes, I know, I was there- MIND THE COW!’ Tires screamed, rain and mud gushed in a flurry and somewhere in the murk a forlorn moo was heard. 

‘For going 8 miles per hour! Isn’t that cute? Wait – you were there?’ 

‘Yes!’ Aziraphale gripped the handhold above the door with a wince as Crowley careened around a corner. ‘I heard you taunting that poor policeman on his velocipede.’ 

‘Oh yeah!’ They cackled, ‘I barely remember that part! What did I say?’ 

The angel sighed, ‘I believe it went something along the lines of “just you try it, you....ahem- bitch boy”.’ 

Crowley burst out laughing, hitting the steering wheel. They looked at the angel delighting in his blushing, ‘You’re too precious.’ 

‘And you’re horrible and NOT WATCHING THE BLOODY ROAD!’ 

***

The hotel was charming, and Crowley would have thought much kinder things if they weren't soaked to the bone and having their face whipped by their hair. Somewhere amongst the howl of wind they could hear the crash of ocean. Crowley lugged one of Aziraphale's suitcases up the stairs to the lobby, muttering under their breath. Why he insisted on wearing actual clothes and over packing they'll never understand. How many damn waistcoats does a person need?

Aziraphale was already inside chatting to the woman at the front desk. The hotel was definitely his style. Plush red carpets, old paintings, decrepit books on seemingly endless shelves. It was warm though, and Crowley could see a well stocked bar down one end of the lobby. Now that had promise.

'And this must be the Mrs then!' The woman trilled, grinning broadly at Crowley. They returned the smile ever so slightly, seeing Aziraphale wince out of the corner of their eye.

'Aye love, that's me,' They purred, looping their arm with Aziraphale's. He took their hand, giving it a squeeze.

'Well, here's the key to your suite,' The woman slid the tag over the desk, then she gave Crowley a look, 'May I ask, dear, why the sunglasses? It's hardly the weather for it!'

'Does it really matter, madam -' Aziraphale started but Crowley flashed a quick, humourless grin, 'Migraines. I get nasty migraines, dear. Any little flash of light and woomp! - I'm out of commission for days.'

'Oh, you poor thing! If you need anything there's always someone at the desk.'

'You're a peach,' Crowley drawled, tugging on Aziraphale's arm, 'Come on, babes, lets get upstairs and dry off.'

As the Elevator doors shut with a ping, Aziraphale sighed, 'It keeps happening. Why does it keep happening to you?'

'People see tits, they think girl,' Crowley shrugged. 'At least she was well meaning. Don't mind it too much when women do it.'

'Yes, well,' he sighed, 'I don't enjoy seeing you be scrutinised. It never happens to me-'

'Well, you're a man, aren't you?' The elevator doors opened and Crowley lugged the suitcase out. 'I mean, you're man shaped, and take up the same spaces in the world as a man would.' They leaned against the wall while Aziraphale unlocked the door, 'It's the same for me when I'm man shaped. No one bats an eye, really.'

'It doesn't seem fair,' The angel sighed, stepping through. He carried the other suitcase with ease, holding the door open for Crowley.

'But that's the way of it,' They dumped the suitcase, flopping onto the bed. 'What name did you sign us in under?'

'Mine,' Aziraphale picked up the discarded baggage with a huff and putting the cases by the chest of drawers. The room was spacious, if a little old fashioned. There was a window seat with floral patterned cushions. With tassels. Crowley could easily picture their angel curled up there with a book, a blanket over his lap.

'We're the Fells, are we?' Crowley snickered. ‘Mr and Mrs Fell?'

'Mr and Mx, actually. Shoes off the bed, please,' The angel fussed with his clothing, refolding his jumpers as he unpacked.

'Like we're maaarrriieed,' Crowley crooned, kicking their feet in the air. 'Have we got the 2.5 kids and white picket fence?'

Aziraphale laughed, 'That didn't come up on the booking form, my love.'

'But you did sign us in as a married couple,' They grinned, sitting up.

'I did better than that,' Aziraphale folded a jumper against his chest. 'I told them it was our honeymoon.'

'You what?!'

Crowley stared in disbelief as their angel strode over and sat beside them. He cupped their cheeks, kissing them tenderly. Crowley melted against him; arms thrown about his shoulders. Would they ever get used to how freely he kissed them? How open they could be in their affections? Crowley hoped not, they didn't ever want to get used to it. Let it always burn.

Aziraphale smiled, pulling back ever so slightly, 'We'll be getting champagne and a complimentary dinner. I asked for it to be sent up to the room.'

'You lied to get yourself free food?' Crowley laughed, ruffling his hair.

'And to get us a nicer room!' Aziraphale blushed, wringing his hands. 'It's not that much of a fabrication...'

'Why, Mr Fell,' Crowley drawled, putting on a terrible southern belle accent. They swooned, 'What kind of man have I married? A cad! A scoundrel! A man who lies for his own gain -'

'Oh, for goodness sake!'

'What ever shall I do? Mama was right about you!' Crowley rolled off the bed, trotting merrily to the bathroom. They gasped, 'Angel! There's a spa bath!' They swung on the taps, grinning as the hot water poured into the large tub. 'I'm gonna have a soak – Oh bugger! I didn't bring any bubbles. You should have told me!'

'Maybe you should check the suitcases, dear boy.'

Crowley gasped. They scuttled back into the room, crouching down by the bags. After a moment of rummaging they triumphantly held the bottle aloft. The demon launched themself at Aziraphale. He fell back on the bed with a yelp, laughter muffled by the onslaught of demonic kisses. Crowley relented, folding their arms on his chest. Chin resting on their arms, they hummed happily, forked tongue flicking out, 'You ssspoil me.'

'Perhaps, but you are so deserving of it,' Aziraphale stroked the back of his fingers down their cheek. Crowley could drown in his eyes. He radiated so much light. Of course they had to wear sunglasses if he was what they looked at everyday! His light was blinding, and they felt the shadows inside shift. And ache.

'...Don't know that I do,' Crowley flinched, sliding off the bed, 'The tubs gonna overflow.' They walked back to the bathroom, body hunching over itself. Crowley didn't deserve much. Except maybe a lie-in. They certainly did not deserve the amount of kindness Aziraphale rained down. A creature like them did not deserve a lot of things, and they couldn't shake the fear that one day a giant hand was going to reach down and smack them back into the dark. One part of Crowley figured that meant they should just open their arms up wider and bask in the glory while they got the chance. But that part was overruled by the cruel voice that whisper-hissed that they didn't matter, nothing mattered, and one day they may just get what they truly deserved.

Crowley poured some of the bubble mixture into the tub, the water churning. They turned off the taps with a sigh. Aziraphale loved them. He did. They knew he did, even if they didn’t exactly understand it. They kicked off their boots, pulling off their black turtle-neck jumper. Steam billowed around them. Crowley opened the small bathroom window, letting the storm sounds fill the space. 

Aziraphale's shoes clicked on the bathroom tiles. Crowley didn't turn around, but they leaned back when the angel's arms wrapped around their waist, his chin resting on their shoulder.

'Sorry,' They whispered, eyes closed.

'Why are you sorry, my heart?'

Crowley sighed, 'You love me. I know you do. I need to...respect that choice, even if uh...I struggle with it.’ They scratched along the inside of their arm, leaving red lines on pale skin. 

‘None of that, now,’ Aziraphale took them by their wrists, tutting softly. Crowley turned, nuzzling into his soft, white hair. They shivered as he ran his thumbs over the inside of their wrists, ‘Hop in the water, darling, I’ll finish unpacking then join you.’ He kissed the back of their shoulder, making them shiver. 

Once alone, they wriggled out of their impossibly tight jeans, sinking into the water. It was bliss. Crowley sunk low, till only from their eyes up was visible, long red hair fanning out. 

‘You look like a water nymph,’ Aziraphale laughed, padding in barefoot. ‘Or a siren.’ 

Crowley giggled – then spluttered, shaking their head and sneezing, ‘Ah fuck! I snorted bubbles!’ 

Their angel snorted with laughter, hand on the wall to steady himself. With a small smile he removed his bow-tie, setting about undoing the buttons of his waistcoat. 

Crowley didn't know where to put their eyes. They stared at their knees, arms around their legs and focused very hard on the bubbles and heat of the water, and not on the soft sighs as their angel began taking off his many layers.

This was the most intimate thing Crowley had ever done. Both in general, yet also with Aziraphale. They hadn't ever been properly naked around him before. Yes, okay, they have had sex (once) and they were very naked with that – but this was different. They weren't naked because the two of them were about to engage in some debauchery. They were naked out of comfort and a desire to just...be. And this left them feeling even more exposed than when they had Aziraphale's fingers and mouth and hands all over them. Because then they knew what his motive was and what he wanted from them.

But this? Just wanting to spend time together, touching, relaxing, left them reeling. Their heart hammered in their chest. The water rose. Aziraphale lowered himself into the bath. Crowley looked up and watched as his soft skin grew undertones of red from the heat. He stretched out, bumping against Crowley's legs.

'Darling, you're still wearing your glasses,' The angel chuckled softly.

With wet, shaking hands Crowley took them off, blinking in the light. With a careful toss, the glasses landed on their pile of clothes and Crowley smiled weakly. They still couldn't quite make eye contact, but slowly relaxed their legs, stretching into the water. It was nice. They felt their blood warming, their muscles relaxing. 

The pair sat like in silence for a while, listening to the storm outside. The cool breeze from the open window a nice juxtaposition to the hot water. Suddenly, the angel felt very far away. Crowley frowned, lifting their arms up, ‘Hey. Come here.’ 

Aziraphale closed the space, water sloshing around. He came to rest with his back against their chest, their arms around him. Crowley hummed happily, kissing behind his ear, ‘Better.’ 

‘You are a cuddly old thing, aren’t you?’ Aziraphale chuckled. 

‘No,’ they huffed, nuzzling into his hair. 

Angel and demon lapsed back into silence. Crowley closed their eyes, listening to their angel breath, feeling his heart beat. Quiet companionship. This was what they had always wanted. And they had it now, and nothing would pry it out of their hands. Eventually the water started to chill, not enough for a normal person to want to leave, but enough that their cold blooded body was beginning to ache.

Crowley patted their lover’s chest, ‘Alright, avert thine eyes, Angel. I’m getting out.’ 

Aziraphale shuffled forward and turned his back to them. They quickly hopped out of the water and dried off, jumping back into their black turtle neck and underwear. 'Okay, you can look now.'

'May I ask why you're hiding yourself, my love?' Aziraphale asked, voice soft. 'Some of things you wear...darling, you'd be less scandalous if you were naked.'

Crowley shrugged one shoulder, 'Yeah, but like...that's different. I control that. I can't control where your eyes go unless I say something.'

'Ah,' The angel nodded. 'I understand.'

Crowley sighed, and leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, 'Doesn't mean I always don't want you to look.' They ran their nails over his scalp, making him relax into their touch, 'It's just the looking can be scary -'

A knock on the suite door cut them off. Crowley grunted, leaving the bathroom. They flung open the door, staring at a wide-eyed maid. In front of her was a silver trolley with a selection of covered plates and a bottle of champagne. Her lip quivered when she met Crowley's eyes.

'What...' She lifted a finger to point. Crowley snapped their fingers and the girl drooped; eyes blank, arms limp. The demon gave a grumpy huff, pushing the trolley into the room.

'Who is it, pet?' Aziraphale asked, wandering in wearing his own robe, the velvet plush and warm. He spotted the girl, then Crowley's glasses-less face, 'Oh, bother.'

'Yeah, bothers right,' Crowley grumbled, putting the plates onto the small table by the window. Aziraphale trotted past them, smiling at the girl. 'Hello there,' he chirped. 'You didn't notice anything odd about my companion. In fact, you simply noticed how very pretty they are, annnd-' Crowley shoved the trolley over to him, that he caught with ease, carefully placing the girl's hands on the handle. '-You're just going wake up having dreamt of something lovely, and go about your day,' He snapped his fingers. The girl blinked, then smiled softly, nodding to him, 'Have a good meal, sir. Ma'am,' she smiled to Crowley with an inquisitive tilt to her head. 

'Uh, yeah, bye,' Crowley waved a hand, hiding behind their hair. They sniffed at the plates, and snatched up the bottle of champagne, working to uncork it.

'What'd you get?' They asked, brows leaping up at the satisfying pop of the cork.

'Well, they asked if we wanted the roast, or the vegetarian option, which seems to be – ah!' The angel gleefully set out the plates on the small table, 'A lovely pumpkin and sweet potato soup with freshly baked bread rolls!' He grinned, 'I may have told them one of us was vegetarian so we'd get to try both.'

Crowley laughed, 'You're bad, Angel! Fibbing away like that. You're not planning to eat all of it, are you? You'll make yourself sick.'

'Never have, never will,' Aziraphale said dryly. Crowley poked out their tongue with a hiss, 'Chuck us your glass then, you cheeky sod.'

The angel handed them the flutes, hand on the small of their back, 'I do intend for us to share, should you like to join me,' He said, cheeks a little flushed.

Crowley handed him his drink with a smile, 'Yeah, alright.'

'Thanks. Babe.'

Crowley groaned, swatting at his shoulder. They grabbed a bread roll, still warm from the oven, and curled up on the bed. They watched Aziraphale as he selected the first round of dishes, bringing them over. 'Normally I am against eating in bed, but since we're on holiday,' He placed the plates in front of them both. He absolutely glowed. Crowley lay on their side in front of him, watching him eat. He took such pleasure in so small a thing. A thing that humans, who had to eat to survive, did with less enthusiasm. Decadent. That's what he was. A little Marie Antoinette sitting on pillows and velvet and slurping soup.

Crowley ripped their bread roll in half, dunking it directly into Aziraphale's bowl. The angel frowned, 'Um, Excuse me?'

They unhinged their jaw, dropping the entire soup-soaked bread down their gullet, teeth clashing together as they snapped their jaw shut. 'What?'

'I uh...Never mind,' He laughed softly, wrinkling his nose, 'What do you think?'

'Yeah, it's alright,' They smiled, picking at the remaining bread in their hand. They nibbled away while the angel had his dinner. They tried some of the roast as well, and found they were especially fond of the potatoes. Crowley yawned, running a hand over their slightly more rounded stomach, 'This is the most I've eaten in years, Angel. I'm gonna get chunky.'

Aziraphale clicked his fingers, and a small covered plate hovered over to the bed, 'I doubt it dear; you never seem to gain weight. And even if you did, you'd be beautiful.' He clasped the plate with both hands.

'You're beautiful,' Crowley said, sitting up. They tucked their legs under, hands resting on the bed in front of their knees. 'Whatcha got?'

'Chocolate cake. You really think that?'

'Hmm? Oh yeah,' Crowley smiled, head to one side. 'You're soft and warm. Good job on your body, Angel. Best thing I’ve snugged up with in...ever.’ 

Aziraphale blushed, ‘Thank you, some of the other angels have made quips before, about my body, and it can get stuck in one’s mind sometimes.’ 

‘Bastards,’ Crowley hissed. 

‘Quite. Here,’ the angel got a piece of cake on his fork. ‘You can have the first bite,’ he brought the fork up, then paused, ‘Don’t eat the utensil.’ 

‘I wont!’ Crowley snorted. They let Aziraphale feed them the morsel, making a show of it. They wriggled up the bed, resting on the pillows. Hand on the small of his back, they rubbed circles there, eyes half closed in quiet bliss. When he was done, Aziraphale lay down beside them. He drew them close, so they lay slightly on his chest. 

Crowley toyed with the lapel of his robe, drawing the fabric through their fingers. Humming in contentment, they pressed a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw. Then another. Soon, Crowley was dragging their teeth along his neck, tongue tasting his skin. Aziraphale was shifting under them, his hand in their hair. 

‘Darling,’ He breathed. ‘Would you like to take this further?’ 

Crowley nodded, ‘I want to kiss you all over.’ 

With a wave of his hand, Aziraphale’s robe was gone. His soft naked body truly was beautiful. Crowley ran their hands over his body, dragging their nails over the roundness of his tummy, his hips and thighs. They kissed down his chest, catching on of his nipples between their teeth ever so gently. His gasp and whine was perfect. His body reacted to their touches, especially as they moved, kissing further down his stomach and abdomen. As they looked down at his hardening cock, a new desire filled them. 

‘Hey, Angel,’ Crowley hummed, kissing back up to Aziraphale’s ribs, their hand resting on his thigh. ‘I think I’d like to try taking you in my mouth.’ 

‘Oh!’ Aziraphale blinked, then bit his lip, failing to hide an excited grin, ‘If you feel comfortable trying it.’ 

‘Yeah! I mean...I’ve watched a bit of human porn, so I know the drill. I think,’ They frowned, replaying the images in their mind, ‘But uh...Do you think you could like...not like...uh...touch my head while I’m doing things?’ They blushed furiously, wringing their hands. ‘Just in some of the videos the guy does that and I worry the girl can’t come up for air if she needs to and that freaks me out. Makes my stomach feel gross,’ They hurriedly waved their hands. ‘Not that I think you’d do that! Like, on purpose or nothing! But yeah...am...am I talking myself out of this?’ 

‘It’s okay if you are-’ 

‘I’m really ballsing this up, huh? Which is ironic given-’ 

‘Crowley, stop talking. Shut your mouth and open your ears,’ The angel chuckled. He took their hands in his, ‘It’s okay if you’ve changed your mind.’ 

‘I don’t think I have...I’m just...nervous.’ 

‘That’s okay,’ He smiled sweetly, head to one side. ‘I’m glad you’re thinking about what could make you uncomfortable and setting boundaries. I would hate to have inadvertently hurt you, or pushed you too far. This isn’t good unless we’re both excited.’ 

‘...But what if I end up hating it?’ 

‘Then we stop. And we find something else to do. And if you decide that you are uncomfortable doing anything sexual again, we won’t do it.’ 

Crowley chewed their lip, ‘You wouldn’t like...feel bad?’ 

‘I’d feel worse if you were putting yourself in situations you hated just to please me. We shouldn’t do these things unless we’re both excited. I’d hope if I came to you one day and said I didn’t want to have sex anymore you’d be okay with that-’ 

‘Yeah, obviosuly.’ 

Aziraphale kissed them softly, ‘There you go, then. We’re building our own world, my love. We need to feel safe in it.’  
Crowley nodded, smiling, ‘I wanna try it, if you do.’ 

‘I do.’ 

Lips brought back to his chest, Crowley began their slow descent. They trailed shifting fingers down his sides, light and ticklish, making the angel laugh weakly and writhe. They nipped at the skin of his hip, gripping his thigh tightly, before letting their hand rest at the base of his cock. Crowley knew what they liked when handling their own dick (when they had one) and figured it wouldn’t be too different for someone else’s. They pressed their hand there for a moment, then moved to kneel between their angels legs. He gazed at them through thick pale lashes, cheeks red, perfect pink lips parted softly. 

Slow but firm, Crowley wrapped their hand around him, beginning to move. They got comfortable, one arm resting on his thigh, their free hand drawing patterns on his abdomen. The angel’s eyes fluttered shut, his head falling back onto the pillows. Crowley leaned in, kissing the inside of his thigh, then up the shaft of his cock before taking him in their mouth. 

Crowley hummed, admiring how the angel’s body reacted. Aziraphale’s gasps and groans filled the room. They pressed his shaking thighs further apart, raking their nails along the sensitive skin. His moan was beautiful. Crowley slowed down, running their long tongue along his cock, a happy growl rising from their chest. Now this was fun! 

Aziraphale’s hand brushed against their hair, stroking them for a second before he yanked it back, ‘Shit, sorry!’ 

Crowley pulled back, keeping their hand gripping firm, ‘It’s okay. That was actually okay, I think. Soft touching is nice,’ they brought their mouth down to the head of his cock, hand stroking him slowly. They rose again, and smiled at him, ‘You can touch my hair. Just don’t hold me down.’ 

‘I wont, I promise.’ 

‘If you need to grip on, let me know. You can always hold my hand,’ They purred, before returning to their work. Aziraphale gently stroked their hair before reaching to grip the bedding, his breaths coming faster. Crowley reached up, lightly touching his hand as invitation. He gripped them hard, interlocking fingers. They growled happily, getting their own satisfaction from seeing him so undone. When he hit his peak, he cried out their name and they never wanted to hear it spoken any other way. Turning to bury his face in the pillows, Aziraphale sucked in sharp breaths. Crowley slowed, pulling back to quickly swallow.

Aziraphale’s body was flushed pink, his breathing slowly returning to normal. Crowley walked their fingers up his chest and lay back down beside him. He panted, wrapping them in his strong arms. They could feel the muscle beneath his soft layer of flesh. They were safe here. 

‘Darling,’ He whispered. ‘My dove, Crowley, that was...wow.’ He laughed then, breathless, pressing kisses to their hair. 

‘I did good?’ 

‘Better than good,’ He smiled. ‘How do you feel?’ 

Crowley chewed their lip with a salacious grin, ‘Like I don’t know how we’re going to get anything else done, now that I’ve seen how fucking hot you look when you’re all pink and writhing-’  
Aziraphale covered their mouth with his hand, eyes wide, ‘Goodness me, such a mouth. I think, it may be my turn?’ 

Crowley simply licked the palm of his hand as an answer. Aziraphale smiled, taking his hand away and stroking their hair. The demon hummed, ‘I think you can be a little rougher in touching me. Maybe pull my hair a little.’ 

The angel nodded, cocking a brow, ‘As you wish, my heart.’ He drew them in, cupping their cheeks. Crowley kissed him softly, their hands on his chest. They nibbled on his bottom lip, satisfaction blooming in their stomach when he gasped. Hands tangled in their hair, pulling harder, forcing their head back, the kiss building in passion. Before they knew it, Aziraphale had the upper hand. He bundled them up in his arms, switching so he was now above them. Crowley couldn't bite back the moan that escaped them, sucking in a sharp breath. That mouth! Aziraphale pulled down the neck of their jumper and sucked on their throat, his hand coming up to cup their breast. Back arching, Crowley pressed up into his touch, their abdomen tightening. 

Together they removed the jumper, Aziraphale bringing that hungry mouth of his to their breast. He sucked on their nipples, and bit softly, sending shots of pleasure through them. Crowley squirmed, both never wanting it to stop, yet to also wriggle away from those hands, that mouth, so they could at least catch their breath. But he was single-minded and Crowley thanked the world for it. 

His hand slipped into their underwear, making Crowley gasp. Aziraphale cupped them there, chuckling against their skin, ‘You’re so wet, my love.’ 

Crowley whined, covering their eyes with their arm, cheeks flushed. Before they could respond his fingers were deep inside them. He miracled their underwear away, spreading their legs. Crowley could barely think straight, his slow, almost torturous movements driving them wild. He kissed and bit down their stomach, humming happily, ‘I wonder what you taste like, my pet.’ 

His tongue at their cunt, Aziraphale wondered no more. He made a low sound from deep within his chest, hooking Crowley’s trembling and very useless legs over his shoulders. They clawed at the bedding, back arching as he drew more and more pleasure out of them. They struggled to focus on anything other than the feel of his fingers, his tongue. How heavy the arm over their abdomen felt. They writhed against him, pinned down by that arm, unable to escape their growing climax. 

‘Angel!’ They groaned, low and deep, gripping his arm. ‘Angel-! Fucking hell!’ Crowley shuddered, turning to bite their own hand, stifling their cries as they came. Aziraphale didn’t stop until their hips quivered weakly and their cries died down to soft and muffled whimpers. 

Whole body on fire, Crowley ran a hand through their hair, blinking and only now noticing the wetness on their cheeks. Before they could wipe it away, Aziraphale was kissing their face, stroking their neck with tender fingers. They realised he must have used a miracle to clean them both up. 

‘My darling,’ he whispered, eyes pools of love. ‘My sweetheart, my only one-’ Crowley threw their arms around his neck, burying their face against him. And they cried. They didn’t know why, but they did. And he held them in his safe arms, cradled against his body till they calmed, sucking in little hiccups of breath. 

‘Crowley?’ He stroked their hair, ‘Dove, you’re okay.’ 

‘I love you,’ they whispered, clinging even tighter to him. ‘Don’t let go.’ 

‘Never.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my work, please consider giving me a follow on Tumblr at [Neon-Goblin-Art](https://neon-goblin-art.tumblr.com) I post fanart and updates there :D Thanks!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my work, please consider giving me a follow on Tumblr at [Neon-Goblin-Art](https://neon-goblin-art.tumblr.com) I post fanart and updates there :D Thanks!

This was what he had wanted. In the low light before sunrise Aziraphale read while Crowley slept beside him. Their long legs were tucked up to their chest, hair that had been tied now loose and tangled. Just their nose poked out from under the duvet, a pillow gripped tightly in their arms. Every so often he would look up from his book, and smile, reaching over to pull up the duvet over Crowley’s exposed shoulder. Or he would absent-mindedly run his fingers through their hair, twirling the strands as he read a particularly engaging passage. 

Aziraphale wondered if Crowley knew they talked in their sleep. Or that when a cold breeze touched their neck they whined softly and burrowed into the pillows, so much so that Aziraphale took some away for fear they might suffocate. It was if these moments were just for him. A quiet gift from the world – a peace offering after everything it had put them both through. 

He sipped at his tea, flipping to the last chapter of the book. Beside him Crowley shifted, curling tighter around the pillow. He slipped a hand under the covers, stroking between their shoulder blades. 

‘...Hey,’ Crowley mumbled, nuzzling into the bedding. 

Aziraphale blinked, setting the book open on his lap, ‘Good morning, love. Did I wake you-’ 

‘- Don’t.’ 

‘Crowley?’ Aziraphale took his hand away, frowning. They were dreaming, he realised, but the crack in their voice frightened him. 

‘Darling, you’re okay,’ He whispered, shifting down to lay beside them. He kissed the back of their head, gently sweeping their hair away from their face. Their brows were deeply furrowed, hands like claws gripping the pillow. 

‘I didn’t...stop...’ Crowley sobbed then. The harsh sound shocked Aziraphale. He stroked their hair, shaking their shoulder. ‘My love, it’s okay. Wake up, please.’ 

Crowley’s large golden eyes snapped open. They sucked in a sharp breath, turning to blink up at Aziraphale. Their pupils were thin black slits, slowly blooming as recognition returned. Eyes red rimmed, dark bags underneath. Aziraphale cooed, hand on their cheek, leaning in to press a soft kiss to their forehead, ‘Crowley? Are you alright?’ 

‘...Yeah,’ they rasped, rolling over. They twisted, hooking their legs around Aziraphale’s, burying their face against his shoulder. He hugged them, rubbing their back. They shook, hands holding to him. 

Aziraphale ran his fingers along their scalp and frowned. He’d never had nightmares, you needed to sleep more than once every few centuries to even begin remembering your dreams. But Crowley had mentioned them before. He hated it. 

‘I’ve got you my love,’ He whispered against their hair. ‘What were you dreaming of, sweet one?’ 

‘...Just...you...and...’ They sighed, pulling back to knead their eyes with the heels of their palms. ‘I don’t wanna talk. Sorry.’ 

‘No need to apologise, my heart,’ Aziraphale said, gently taking their hands in his. Shadows. He saw shadows flicker behind their eyes, like something stirring in deep water. He kissed their knuckles. ‘You don’t have to talk. You’re safe, I’ve got you.’ 

Crowley gave him a weak smile. They took one hand from him, and cupped his cheek, pulling him close for a kiss. Aziraphale hummed softly, eyes closed. Outside the sun finally started rising, covering the pair in pale golden light. His book slid off the bed and he didn’t care. Crowley wrapped their arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. Aziraphale ran his hand down their side, following the dip of their waist, the curve of their hip. They lay together for a moment, foreheads touching. 

‘Hey,’ Crowley whispered. ‘What are you thinking about?’ 

Aziraphale smiled, ‘That you’re right.’ 

Crowley raised a brow. The angel chuckled, cupping their cheek, ‘How are we going to get anything done now that I’ve seen how beautiful you look,’ he leaned in to bite their earlobe, ‘while I’m fucking you.’ He bit back a grin at Crowley’s gasp. 

‘Angel!’ 

‘Yes, dear boy?’ Aziraphale smirked, kissing their jaw. ‘I speak the truth, I mean look,’ He pulled the blankets back, admiring how much they blushed. He kissed down their neck, ‘How perfect you are, right here?’ He pressed a kiss to their sternum, ‘Delightful. And here?’ He pressed open mouthed kisses along their ribs down to their tummy. His hands on their hips, holding them down as they squirmed, ‘The sweetest I’ve ever tasted. Well, and here...’ He walked his fingers down their thigh, slipping in between their legs. Crowley whined, squeezing their thighs together around his hand, ‘When I touch you here you make the most lovely sounds.’ 

Keeping his hand firmly in place, Aziraphale nipped at their earlobe again, ‘How am I supposed to go about my day, when I could be watching you in the throes of ecstasy?’ 

Crowley covered their face with their hands, laughing weakly. They were bright red, chest rising with sharp breaths, their ribs visible. Easing his hand away, Aziraphale propped himself on one elbow, leaning over his wide eyed and beautiful companion. 

‘Last night, you said I could be a little rougher with you,’ he said, running a finger down their sternum. ‘Does that continue to this morning?’ 

Crowley chewed their lip and nodded, eyes on his upper arm as they reached up to feel the muscle there. 

‘Good, because I was hoping to push things just a little further.’ 

Yellow eyes snapped up to his, big and sparkling, ‘How?’ 

Oh, how sweet they are, he thought. Aziraphale placed his hand at the base of their throat, thumb stroking their skin. ‘I could put pressure here,’ He gave their throat the slightest squeeze and revelled, watching how their pupils expanded, lips parting. When he eased the grip they pressed closer. 

‘Was that good, my pet?’ 

‘Yes, do it again.’ 

‘All in good time,’ he tenderly kissed their cheek, hand coming up to tangle in their hair. He tightened the grip just enough to elicit a half whimper/half giggle from them. They squirmed, hands clawed in the bedding. 

‘I’m learning new things about you, Crowley,’ Aziraphale mused, easing his grip. The demon curled their lip, poking out their tongue. 

‘We both are,’ They laughed then, nose wrinkling. ‘Are we getting up now?’ 

'Let's stay a-bed a little longer, my love,' Aziraphale whispered, rolling over to pick up his book. He settled, half sitting in the bed. Crowley sat up, moving the covers around so they could comfortably lean into his chest. They lay with their ear over his heart, arm draped over his stomach. Aziraphale played with the ends of their hair as he found his place and began reading again.

'...Angel?' Crowley whispered after a few minutes, 'Can I ask you a question? It's...personal.'

'Of course, dear boy,' He gave their shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

'How many other people have you um...been with?'

'Ah.' This was personal. He sighed, 'A handful, though only a couple were...more long term, you could say.'

'You loved them.'

'I did,' He closed his book, stroking their hair. The pair of them were tiptoeing, he could feel the dance beginning but he didn't know if he should be the one to lead it.

'That's good,' Crowley yawned, drawing patterns on his tummy with one long nail. 'Were they good to you?'

He smiled sadly, 'Yes. Though some I only knew a few years, some I knew their whole lives. One I held as he died.' Old memories swirled in his mind; tears pricked in his eyes.

'Sorry,' Crowley sat up, taking his hand, 'I shouldn't have brought it up-'

'No, no, you've no need to apologize, my pet,' He kissed their forehead. 'I'm not sad, exactly. I knew what I was getting into, human lives blink by so quickly. I am grateful for the experience. To have loved more than once is a gift, I believe.'

Crowley hummed in reply, then grew silent. Aziraphale feared he missed a step in the dance.

'Does it feel different each time?' They asked in a whisper.

'What does, dear? Love, or the act, because I didn't lay with all of them -'

'Nah, the love bit.'  
'Right,' Aziraphale nodded, taking a moment to arrange his thoughts. He needed to be careful, to find the right words. 'Yes. I found different parts of people compelling. The feelings were as unique as the individuals.'

He watched them out of the corner of his eye. Crowley was unusually pensive. They pulled the duvet up to cover their bare chest, a little shiver running through them.

'Love is kinda built in, for angels, isn't it? I remember feeling...something, before falling,' They whispered. 'But I've really never felt it again.'

With his arm around their shoulders, Aziraphale drew them close, rubbing the top of their arm to help warm them up. He let the world slip from his corporal form and wrapped his wings around them both. Crowley hugged the duvet.

'May I ask you a personal question, Crowley?' Aziraphale asked.

'Yeah.'

'When you say you love me, what do you mean?'

The demon curled up; knees pulled to their chest. They tucked their head under his chin, and ran their fingers over his feathers, 'That you're my best friend. And I like being around you more than other people. You're...my favourite person.'

Aziraphale kissed their head, eyes closed. He took in a deep breath, tightening his wings, hugging them both.

'I think I'm a bit like...A stray dog,' Crowley said after a moment. 'That you've fed, and just hangs about now. Like, I don't know much, but I know when I've got a good thing going.'

'You're not a dog-'

'-No, I know, but like in a metaphorical sense-'

'No.' Aziraphale shook his head, holding their hand in a tight grip, 'Not even in a metaphorical sense. You are not an animal, and you certainly are not a stray I have fed. You are a person, and one I love whole heartedly. To imply otherwise is an insult to us both!' He was shaking, voice raised. His heart beat furiously in his chest. Crowley didn't react. They didn't pull back, or stop gently stroking his wings. Their silence did not ease the knot in his chest, the lump in his throat. The room grew uneasy, and Aziraphale fought the urge to apologise.

'I wasn't intending to belittle how you feel,' Crowley said softly, voice so even it was as if they were reading from a script. 

Aziraphale didn't have a reply. He swallowed down his unease, giving a little nod.

'But,' Crowley continued. They shifted, sitting in front of him now, with his wings encircling. Crowley's eyes were huge, the pupils the thinnest he'd ever seen. 'I don't need you shouting at me when I'm trying to tell you how I feel.' Those shadows were back, little dark clouds in their eyes. They scratched at their arm.

Aziraphale reached for them, touching their arm tenderly. They flinched. It was near imperceptible, but they flinched, and a shatter of ice ran down his spine and through his heart. 

'I didn't mean to raise my voice,' He said softly, taking his hands away. 'Do you want me to give you some space?'

'What?' Crowley blinked, shaking their head, 'Nah. Nah, you're okay. I'm just...feeling a lot.'

'Hmm, yes, so am I.'

'Angel, do you want some space?'

Aziraphale sighed, and shook his head, 'No. I am sorry,' he said. 'I didn't realise you thought of yourself in such a manner.' The image they'd conjured in his mind made him feel ill, that they could think of their arrangement as a kind of tragic kindness he was bestowing on them broke his heart in a way he'd never felt before. He offered his hand, palm up. Crowley took it in both of theirs, the red lines from their scratching still ripe on their pale inner arm.

'I want you to know, Crowley, that I've always valued your presence in my life. You were my dearest, dearest friend, and now you're my lover -'

'I don't get the difference,' They said. 'Between friend and...lover,' they rolled their eyes at the word, smiling softly. 'Other than like...we're fucking now, and um...co-habiting.'

'Co-habiting?' He chuckled then, rubbing his eyes. 'You know what, Crowley, I don't even know if there is a difference, if we get right down to it.'

'...huh...You know...that makes sense,' Crowley said, a stray tangle of hair falling in their eyes. They turned, pressing a kiss to his wing, 'Your feathers are looking real tidy, Angel. You been preening?'

It was as if the shadows had never passed through them. They were smiling now, bright as a daisy. Aziraphale blinked, then shook his head, ‘No. No, not more than usual at any rate.’ Something was bubbling away inside his dear one’s mind, something that left him unsure of his footing. Crowley leaned towards him, popping a kiss to his nose. He smiled, holding their cheek before kissing them softly. 

‘Well, my love,’ he whispered against their lips. ‘What shall we do today?’ 

‘Nothin’,’ Crowley smirked. ‘Find some plonk, and get sloshed in bed.’ 

Aziraphale chuckled, nuzzling into their hair, eyes closed, ‘Yes, we could. I would like to go out for the morning, I think. Take in the bracing sea air now the weathers cleared up.’ 

‘I’m not buildin’ a sandcastle.’ 

‘No one says you have to!’ Aziraphale laughed, ‘But a walk would do us both some good.’ 

Crowley groaned, rolling over to sit up, ‘Fine. But I’m wearing something slutty.’ 

***

The air had a harsh chill, but the sun was out. The walk from the hotel to the seaside was less than 30 minutes. Aziraphale held Crowley's hand as they went. He noticed every little quick glance, the kind everyone makes as they go about their day, looks of unremarkable acknowledgement. People saw them and it didn't matter. He brought the back of Crowley's hand to his lips, their skin cold to touch. He cupped their hand in both of his, puffing air, trying to give warmth back. The demon wrapped their arm around his shoulders, kissing his temple. Heart fluttering, Aziraphale matched them with an arm around their waist.

He felt more attuned to their movements. Like he was seeing them for the first time. He noticed every hitch of breath, how their hips swayed awkwardly. How they lead with their head. Turning to face a direction, their body following like an afterthought. Still ever the serpent.

He admired how they slouched, now seated at a table in a little cafe. Crowley folded themself, elbow on the table, chin propped up on their palm. As a contrast Aziraphale sat straight, posture perfect. He crossed his ankles, studying the menu.

'They have some lovely sounding options,' he smiled, bobbing in excitement. 'The Eggs Florentine is calling to me, I think.' He slid the menu to Crowley, who gave it a quick glance.

After the pair ordered Crowley yawned, staring out the window. They sighed, smiling to themself.

'What's going on in that mischievous mind of yours?' Aziraphale asked.

'Not a lot,' They chuckled. Leaning back in the chair, they draped their arm over the back, loosely crossing their legs. They flashed Aziraphale a rakish grin, 'But mischief is on the cards.'

Aziraphale blushed, hands on his lap. He leaned forward, voice hushed, 'What are you planning? A caper?'

Before Crowley could answer, their meal was brought to the table. Aziraphale's breakfast smelled divine.

'You haven't answered me,' He said, flicking the napkin over his knee. Crowley reached over and with one long nail poked a perfectly poached egg. They giggled, 'Wobbly.'

'Would you like to try some?'

'Nah,' They shook their head. 'Spinach. Can't stand leaves.'

Aziraphale went to speak as the waiter returned, bringing Crowley a small, very red, smoothie. He took a deep breath, 'Well?'

'What?'

'Crowley!' The angle gently kicked them under the table. 'What are you planning?'

'Nothing!' They snorted, tangling their ankles with his. 'Don't be so suspicious, my dove.' Crowley positively purred the pet name, voice deep and rumbling, a mean little smirk on their lips. Aziraphale's stomach tightened. Damn them, they had such a way of making his blood boil. And turn his legs to jelly.

Aziraphale focused on his breakfast, face blank, refusing to give the demon the satisfaction. He willed his cheeks not to pink. His breakfast was scrumptious. He sipped his tea, watching the world go by. Human couples walked dogs, or zoomed past on those dangerous wheeled-boards he despised. Behind the thoroughfare was the sea. He could hear its roar, the waves still in turmoil, the water deep and dark from rain. It was beautiful in its power. He felt the thrum of it even at that distance. 

After breakfast the companions wandered the streets, peering at shop fronts. They came upon a small garden courtyard, a large tree growing in the centre. Around the edge were small boutiques, and nestled in with them was a friendly sight. 

'Darling, I'm going to pop in there,' Aziraphale pointed to a small second-hand bookshop at the opposite side of the courtyard. Crowley followed behind him, dragging their feet a smidge, but they said nothing.

Ah! Aziraphale felt all tension leaving him as he crossed the threshold. Wall mounted lamps illuminated the dark building. Shelves groaned under the weight of thousands of books, old and loved. That was what he felt most of all – love. This building, this space, these items had all been adored and loved for decades. His heart sang. From his breast pocket, Aziraphale pulled out his spectacles. Wandering with his hands behind his back, he browsed. Crowley followed him for about a minute before losing interest. They found an armchair down one aisle, curling with their legs hanging over the arm. Aziraphale left them to tap away on their phone.

No matter how long he lived, or how many establishments he wandered into, Aziraphale always adored exploring bookshops. The old – second, third, fourth hand – shops were his favourite. He held a kinship. Lifetimes of souls touched these volumes, and he felt every one. He could tell this particular store had been run by a single family – the essence of past lives ran alongside the present. He touched a shelf, and knew instantly this was where a grandchild once toppled over only to be swept into the strong arms of their grandparent. Where generations of kids learned to read, squabbled, and celebrated. He caught the eye of the proprietor, a squat old man, hunched behind his desk. There was no computer, and no card machine. Only a large leather book lay open, a sharp pencil beside. Aziraphale and the man shared a nod. It was like he had stepped back in time.

The angel started pulling books down, holding his choices in the crook of his arm. Once this grew too much, he carted them over to Crowley, piling the books on their stomach before heading off again. The demon laughed at him, a protective arm over his books. Two more circuits of the shop and he was done. Crowley helped carry the books to the desk. They stood with their arms around his middle, chin resting on his shoulder.

'That's a bit of a change, innit?' The old man rasped, making note in his book. 'The wife sitting around while the husband shops!' The man laughed. Angel and demon did not. They shared a look. Behind their glasses Aziraphale saw Crowley roll their eyes pointedly. "Bite him," They mouthed with a smirk.

'I see you're one of those modern couples, aye? You are married, yes?'

'Of courssse,' Crowley drawled, 'Otherwissse we'd be living in sssin.' Their arms tightened around Aziraphale and he blinked as innocently as he could. They always got so...toothy when annoyed. It made them lisp. 

'You lose your ring then, lass?' The man asked, starting to put the books into bags for them. Aziraphale bristled, drawing himself up, 'Oh now really!'

'It'sss right here,' Crowley snarled, and from under their jumper their produced a long gold chain threaded through a ring. It was a perfect replica of Aziraphale's signet. It shimmered faintly, a mirage the human couldn't tell was false. They let it go, the ring hitting their chest. 

And Aziraphale couldn't take his eyes off of it. It was a lie, a false creation made only so Crowley could feel superior and win in a foolish situation – yet his heart suddenly stopped beating. Air abandoned his lungs. Marriage is a human construct, one a lot of humans wanted gone, and yet...Aziraphale stared at the little gold band looped on a chain and wanted nothing more than to make that real. The image of Crowley wearing something of his, that denoted that they were as much his as he was their's filled him till bursting. Proof of devotion, of love, of how much they meant to one another and in a way that was subtle but visible to the world.

He was lost in these thoughts as Crowley paid the boorish man, and ushered Aziraphale out of the store. They walked in silence back to the hotel, all the while the angel fiddled with his signet.

Crowley unlocked the door to their suite, brows notched. As soon as the door clicked shut, Aziraphale grabbed their arm, pulling them in. He pushed them against the door, kissing them hard. They yelped, then melted. Hands clawed at his shoulders; a deep rumbling rose from their chest. Their fangs had grown – Aziraphale noticed, their nails sharper than usual. He pushed them harder against the door, reaching down to grab their thigh, hooking their leg over his hip. Books tumbled to the floor. Crowley gasped for breath, head falling back as Aziraphale held them by the nape, his mouth at their throat.

Why had he spent so long pushing them away? Aziraphale cursed himself for his fear. Crowley had offered themself to him multiple times, and each time he had turned them away, scolded them for their rashness, their boldness. He had been afraid of them, of how they made him feel and just how reckless they both had been. For thousands of years the pair had walked a tightrope – yet Crowley had always seemed to dash fleet footed across it without worry – Aziraphale was the one always lagging behind.

But he had them now. How lucky he was Crowley hadn't given up on him. He had to pour the years of longing and love into every moment, to make up for the hurt he'd caused them both. In moments of disquiet Aziraphale feared he wasn't deserving of their continued devotion -

'Aziraphale,' Crowley growled his name, nails dragging along his scalp. His spine tingled, blood thundering. They so rarely used his true name. And to hear them utter it like that sent a thrill through him. He scooped them in his arms, lifting them off the ground. Long legs wrapped around his waist. He carried them easily. Hurried hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, tugging impatiently at his bow-tie. 

In one sudden movement he let them go, dropping them on the bed. They fell back, hands steadying behind themself, legs at odd angles. loose red hair fell in their eyes, a strand fluttering as they panted, gazing at Aziraphale with pupils so blown there was nearly no colour visible but endless black.

Aziraphale watched his reflection in those black eyes as he removed his waistcoat, adoring how Crowley focused on his hands, how intently they watched him shed his layers. He stopped at his under shirt. Aziraphale couldn't be away from them any longer.

He knelt on the bed, hand on their jaw. With his thumb under their chin he titled their head back, exposing their throat. Their skin was pink in patches from his earlier attention. They swallowed, and he felt the shift under his hand. He could feel their pulse thrumming, their breast rising with hurried breath.

They reached for him. One hand on his knee, their other gripped his forearm that held them. Nails dug into his skin. Aziraphale pressed a soft kiss to the underside of their chin. 

'My love,' he cooed, running his hand down their throat. He squeezed ever so slightly. Crowley growled happily, their grip on his arm loosening. So pliant! Aziraphale was amazed at how soft they got. They fought him on everything, gave snide and often unwanted comments and he let it all slide away. Yet here, they gave everything over to him. And it wasn't just that he had more experience, he knew. 

A flash of movement and heavy black wings sprang forth into being. Crowley blinked, as taken aback as Aziraphale. But the angel broke into a smile. He sat cross legged, pulling them onto his lap. Crowley’s top dissipated into a wisps of smoke, leaving them bare to the waist. He massaged up their back, right to where their wings grew. The bloody things were heavy, muscles grew tired and knotted. He found one such knot, kneading with his knuckles. Crowley flopped against him, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. 

‘I don’t think I can put them away,’ They whispered softly. 

‘You don’t need to,’ He whispered back, drawing one beautiful black feather through his fingers. ‘I’ve always admired your plumage.’ 

There was such depth to Crowley’s feathers. At a distance they seemed simple, raven black. But like many black coloured birds in the word, that simplicity hid the truth. In the light the feathers held sheens of blues and greens, like an oil slick. The under coat was like a storm at sea: harsh greys and blacks and purples, a bruising of colours. 

Crowley nipped at his neck, pressing their bare chest to him as he dragged his nails down their spine to their lower back. Crowley shivered. Then bit him again when he wiggled his hand into their jeans, grabbing their arse. With his other hand he got a fistful of their hair, pulling their head back, ‘Why are you always biting me?’ He asked in a soft voice. They balled their hands on his chest, whining softly. 

‘Answer me, my dove,’ he cooed, tightening his grip. 

Crowley laughed, forked tongue flicking out with a hiss, ‘Becaussse I can.’ 

‘Is that something you’ve wanted to do?’ 

They tried to nod, then hissed again. Aziraphale smiled, ‘I think you may have a bit of an oral fixation, darling. We may need to look into getting you something to bite that isn’t yourself or my neck while we fuck. But for the mean time,’ He leaned in, lips by their ear, ‘You can still bite, but be in control of the pressure. I don’t want to run the risk of any skin breaking.’ 

‘I won’t,’ Crowley whispered. ‘I mean, I will be in control -’ they quivered when he kissed when their jaw met their ear, hands weakly clawing at him. ‘I never know what to do with my hands.’ 

Aziraphale released his grip in their hair, and removed his hand from their jeans. He took Crowley by the wrists, ‘Don’t do anything.’ He guided their arms behind their back, arranging them so each wrist sat beside the opposite elbow. He held them there a moment, letting them adjust to the feeling, ‘We can keep them here, if you feel safe.’ 

Heavy black wings shivered and fluttered. Crowley took a moment, breathing deeply, brows knotted as they thought. ‘Do I just hold em back there?’ 

‘I could tie your arms back,’ Aziraphale said, ‘Or just your wrists. Or even tie them to the headboard,’ he chuckled. ‘There are options.’ 

Crowley shifted in his lap, leaning forward to kiss his nose, ‘Tie my arms. I wanna know how it feels.’ 

Gold rope formed around their arms, knotting itself in intricate patterns. He couldn’t help himself, the colour was so pretty against their skin. He eased his hands away, bringing them to rest on Crowley’s shoulders. ‘Take a moment,’ he said. ‘With a clear head. How does it feel?’ 

The demon took their time. They wriggled in his lap, causing Aziraphale to look skyward and clear his throat, trying to focus on the ceiling patterns and not on the pleasant weight of his love. They both needed a clear head. 

‘It’s good,’ Crowley said, stretching out their wings and rolling their shoulders. Auburn hair tumbled down their back. ‘But what if it stops being good-’ 

‘Then I take it away in an instant,’ Aziraphale snapped his fingers. ‘We’re playing with the idea of vulnerability, but you’re never going to be in any real trouble, I promise you.’ 

His dearest smiled then, expression soft, and Aziraphale prayed he was worthy of their love and trust. He would prove himself worthy a thousand times over, then a thousand more. Crowley may have once built stars, but they were his. His beacon, his light. 

Crowley kissed him softly, humming as they pulled against the binds. Hooking his fingers in the belt loops on their jeans, Aziraphale pulled them flush against him, the pair shifting so Crowley knelt with their knees on either side of his thighs. Eyes locked on each other, Aziraphale slowly undid the fly of their jeans. He knelt up himself, and kissed them deeply, their tongues meeting. And as he did so, he slipped his hand into their jeans, fingers pressing against their cunt. Crowley moaned into the kiss, wings quivering. They pulled against the rope, trying to get closer to him, their hips rolling against his touch. Crowley growled in frustration. Their jeans went the way of their top, dissipating in wisps. 

Free from the constraints of fabric, Aziraphale pressed harder against them, pulling more moans from them. The kiss broke, the demon’s head falling back. Aziraphale smiled against their neck, speeding up his fingers. Breath quickening, Crowley shuddered, whispering his name on every puff and pant. He could feel the pressure building, their muscles tensing. He toyed with the idea of stopping, of making them wait for their peak. But that was a momentary thought, given way to the more pleasing one that he would simply bring them to that peak more than once. 

A final tensing, and Crowley groaned, hips shaking. He kept his hand pressed to them, drawing little quakes and flutters from their body. Eventually they stilled, forehead to his shoulder. They nipped at him, lighter than before, followed by their tongue. 

Aziraphale breathed wordless praise into their hair, stroking down their spine and along their hips. He touched their wings, burying his hands in the feathers. The stiffness in their body was gone, he didn’t find any more knots in their muscles. They had sat back down, ankles crossed beneath themself. Their skin was flushed, and beautiful. He noted little (and not so little) scars along their body, marks he’d never really noticed before. He chewed his lip at that. Aziraphale knew that work they used to do was rough. Very rough, and it made sense there would be evidence of that on them. But he hated it anyway. 

‘Angel,’ They half whispered, rubbing their cheek against his shoulder. ‘The ropes...’ 

‘Do you want them gone?’ He asked, returning to himself. 

‘They’ve loosened, can you fix that?’ Crowley smiled up at him, ‘Please?’ 

With a tilt of his head, the ropes righted themselves. Crowley hummed happily, pulling away to stretch their back. They arched backwards, ribs showing, knees parting slightly to keep purchase – and as a bonus gave Aziraphale an amazing view of their taut body. 

He wanted them so much it ached. His initial desire was to have them on their back, but the wings would make that tricky. He bundled them into his arms, their laughter bright and breathy. It took but a moment and his clothing was gone and he leaned against the headboard, Crowley on his lap. They gave him a look, then gave a fang filled grin. 

‘You’re looking very...pleased to see me,’ Crowley snickered, casting their eyes down his body. They straddled him, biting their bottom lip. Aziraphale rolled his eyes, hands firm on their waist. Their wings fanned out behind them, stretching before coming forward to brace against the wall. The movement shocked Aziraphale. Light dappled through the feathers, casting shadows over their bodies. Crowley caught him in a kiss, parting his lips with their own. 

Aziraphale groaned into the kiss. With his hands on their hips to guide them, Crowley lowered themself on his cock. They both stilled, the demon taking a moment to adjust. He felt them quiver around him, body tight. 

‘Take the rope away,’ They whispered. When he did so they pressed to him, hands on his shoulders. Their hips moved, slow and rolling. He guided them, pressing his forehead to their collarbone. He pressed kisses to their skin, eyes closed, his body singing. They were perfect, even as their rhythm faltered. He tightened his grip, slipping a hand to grab their arse. Crowley whined, nails digging into his shoulders. 

Auburn hair tumbled around him. Aziraphale kissed up their neck, biting their jaw. Heat filled him, his stomach fluttering. He gasped, muscle tensing around him. Shocks rocked through him, heart pounding. Crowley sped up, thighs shaking. They rose and fell, sucking in sharp breaths. Aziraphale touched where their bodies met, his thumb rubbing where they were most sensitive. Crowley gave a strangled cry. They wrapped their arm around his shoulders, the other braced against the wall. 

Bodies moved together, breathing synced. Crowley’s lips bumped against his forehead. Losing himself, Aziraphale moaned their name. He cupped their cheek, making them face him. 

‘Look at me, my heart,’ he breathed, struggling to maintain himself. ‘I want to see your eyes.’ 

The timing was perfect. Their eyes met just as Crowley reached their peak. Long lashes fluttered as they came, the quaking of their body sending Aziraphale over the edge. 

Angel and demon rode out their pleasure, all grasping hands and muffled cries. Slowly, Crowley left his lap, hair covering their face. They shivered. Heavy black wings wrapping around their naked body. 

With a wave of his hand Aziraphale cleaned them both up. He stretched out on the bedding, hand running through his short hair. Heart still pounding, he held out a hand, beckoning his love. They crawled to him, a notch in their brow. 

Crowley lay half on his chest, a wing covering the lower part of him. They nuzzled to his chest, eyes heavy lidded. Aziraphale traced a finger down the bridge of their nose, along their cheekbone. He pulled the blankets over their bodies, even covering Crowley’s wings. Head tucked under his chin, they growled low in their chest, the sound shifting from a rumble to a soft, almost squeaky yawn. 

Aziraphale kissed their hair, smiling, eyes shiny with tears. No poetry he had ever read matched the depth of love he held for them. No words had ever been crafted that compared to the taste of their skin, the feel of their hands, their feathers. Teeth and breath on his skin. They deserved to have poetry written about how mesmerizing the dip at their lower back was, how he longed to trace every line of their body with his mouth. 

Perhaps, he thought, as his mind started to drift and Crowley dozed, rising and falling on his belly with each breath, he would write such a poem.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my work, please consider giving me a follow on Tumblr at [Neon-Goblin-Art](https://neon-goblin-art.tumblr.com) I post fanart and updates there :D Thanks!

The water was bracing! It was not the season for it, but Aziraphale was determined. He was at the seaside and by goodness, he was going to swim!

Aziraphale stood in the sea up to his hips, his striped swimming costume clung to his legs. The straps on his shoulders fell when a particularly strong wave hit him. He could hear his lover's laughter from there. He turned, waving to Crowley. They lay on a large towel, with a huge umbrella stabbed into the sand. They were wearing high-waisted shorts over stockings that left nothing to the imagination and a tight cropped shirt with "666... reasons I love you" bedazzled across their chest. They were the tackiest thing he'd ever witnessed and it was fantastic. Crowley waved back, blowing him a kiss. He beamed, and mimed catching the "kiss" and popping it in his non-existent pocket. Crowley's groan of disgust was like music to his ears.

He bobbed in the water for a few more minutes, before trotting back to Crowley. A huge, fluffy towel was instantly thrown over his shoulders, his serpent love shying away from his cold hands.

'Don't you just love the seaside, my dove?' He grinned.

'I like looking at it through a window as I drive past,' Crowley chuckled. They lay down on their front, arms folded with their chin atop. 'Why you gotta fling yourself into freezing water I'll never understand.'

'It's good for the circulation.'

'But sand gets everywhere-'

'Exfoliation!'

Crowley snickered, curling to get comfortable – their shorts riding up. Aziraphale shifted closer, and casually draped part of his towel over their backside.

'Why is your nasty wet towel on my arse?'

'Because your rear end is on display for the whole world to witness.'

Crowley grinned, reaching back to pat themself, 'And the world should thank me!' 

Aziraphale rolled their eyes, rubbing his hair dry with the towel. After a while Crowley yawned, jumping to their feet. They dug through the carry bag the angel had brought, pulling out their wallet, ‘Gonna get a drink. You want an ice cream or something?’ 

‘Just a drink, please love. Oh! And some crisps?’ 

‘You got it,’ They popped a kiss to the top of his head before trotting away. The angel beamed. This was so nice! The sounds of the sea, of gulls and families, all washed over him. His heart was full. Crowley hadn’t even complained (much) when he suggested taking in some sea-bathing. He sighed dreamily then, replaying the delight he had in watching them sleep beside him, cocooned in their wings. They hadn’t had a bad dream – or if they had, they hadn’t told him. They had slept soundly, snoring softly. He was surprised at how comfortable and safe it made him feel just to have them there. Knowing that he could reach over and tuck them into bed, or run his fingers over their feathers. Perhaps this was what it was like to have your home be another person, rather than a place.

Aziraphale looked around, and saw, much to his shock, Crowley standing by a vendor with a man. They shook their long hair, laughing at something the man said, shifting their weight from one foot to the other. There was a distinctive little bounce in the movement. He frowned. And watched as the vendor put two bottles and a bag on the counter, along with a napkin and pen. A pen! What on earth would he need a pen for? The man wrote something down, then paid before whispering something to Crowley. They laughed, swatting at his arm.

The angel looked away when he saw Crowley returning, bottles and bag clutched in their arms, the little napkin fluttering between two fingers. His cheeks burned and he pulled the towel around himself. 

'Alright Angel, I got some iced tea and a lil snack for you,' They knelt beside him on the towel, smiling wide.

'Did you really?' He said weakly, taking the offered bottle. 'What's that?' He asked as nonchalant as possible, nodding to the napkin.

Crowley laughed, 'Some bloke gave me his number. He paid for the drinks, by the way.'

'Why would he do that?' Aziraphale asked, holding the bottle in both hands. Crowley snorted, lazily braiding their hair, 'I forgot my wallet.'

'No you didn't,' The angel frowned. 'It's in your pocket-'

'Yeah well, maybe he offered, and I'm not gonna turn down a free drink,' Crowley's hands dropped to their lap, hair unwinding. ‘Is that an issue?'

'No!' Aziraphale snapped. He shut his eyes, sucking in a breath, 'I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm so...ruffled.'

They sat in silence for a moment. Gulls squawked above. Eventually, Crowley sighed, 'Are you jealous?’ 

Aziraphale stared at the drink in his hands, watching the condensation bead down the plastic. They were right. He heard Crowley click their tongue in annoyance. 'Look,' They held the napkin in front of him, waving it. It burst into flames, curling in a little plume of smoke.

'You didn't have to do that,' He said, looking up.

'No? You were sulking!'

'I wasn't sulking!' Aziraphale shook his head. 'I was just caught off guard.' He rubbed his eyes, 'I didn't expect to see you bounce like that -'

Crowley chuckled, 'He could not take his eyes off my tits-'

'It's not funny,' Aziraphale wrung his hands. 'You shouldn't play with people like that.'

'I did one tiny little temptation! Why am I in trouble?' Crowley scoffed. 'He offered! I didn't do anything other than laugh at his lame fucking jokes! Harmless!'

'Well he might not think that-'

'You might not, you mean.'

Aziraphale fell back on the towel, hands over his eyes, 'Crowley, do you want to sleep with other people?' The question left him before he could control himself. Fear stabbed at his gut. 

'Ew, why?'

'What?'

'Why would you think I'd want that?' Crowley curled their lip. They looked at him like he’d grown three heads. 

'Because it...can be fun?’ Aziraphale blinked. Even to his ears that sounded weak, but he didn’t know how else to explain himself. 

‘What like, with a human? Why?’ 

‘Okay...well, what if, hypothetically, they weren’t a human but were like us?’ 

Crowley pondered this, then made a face, ‘But where would you be?’ 

Aziraphale opened his mouth. Then closed it again. He couldn’t tell if they were winding him up, ‘Crowley, in this scenario, I wouldn’t be present.’ 

‘Then absolutely not.’ 

It dawned on Aziraphale that Crowley, the sweet creature, was being genuine. He sat up. ‘What if I was there?’ He asked carefully. 

Crowley frowned, ‘I could make one of those things...the boards...chartreuse...?’ 

‘Charcuterie.’ 

‘Yeah! You like those. I could make one of them and keep the wine going.’ 

Aziraphale took their hand in his, blinking. ‘Would you, theoretically, be participating in sexual activities if they were occurring in this scenario?’ 

‘Nah.’ 

‘You wouldn’t want to explore that side of yourself?’ 

Crowley cocked their head to one side, ‘I am? With you?’ 

‘But what if it wasn’t with me!’ 

‘Then obviously not, you great flaming pillock!’ Crowley growled, throwing their arms up. ‘Round and round we go, fucking hell Angel!’ 

Aziraphale burst out laughing. He couldn’t stop it. It bubbled up from his gut, making his eyes water. He sucked in sharp breaths, unable to control himself. He shook his head, snorting. 

‘Why is that funny?’ Crowley snapped, cheeks flushed. 

‘Oh darling, it’s not! Not really,’ he reached for them. ‘I just didn’t expect it.’ 

Crowley glared, ‘I’ve had offers, you know!’ They folded their arms tight over their chest. ‘I’m not oblivious! I just never wanted to fuck anyone who wasn’t you!’ 

Aziraphale hugged himself under the fluffy towel. ‘You haven’t?’ He gawked at them, eyes wide. They were blushing furiously, hugging themself tight. He’d embarrassed them. Heart pounding in his chest, he chuckled softly, ‘Aw, honey, I didn’t realise. I am sorry-’ 

‘You bloody well should be!’ They snapped. Then exploded. In their place was a small snake, who slithered into the carry bag along with the spare towel. 

‘Darling! I’m sorry! Come out, don’t hide,’ Aziraphale reached in – then yanked his hand back as fangs missed his fingers by millimetres. ‘You can’t snake away like this, how am I going to carry everything back to the hotel?’ 

‘Fuck you, that’s how!’ 

‘Crowley!’ He frowned, laying down on his belly. ‘Honestly, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I’m sorry!’

A low hiss was all the reply he got. 

Crowley become human shaped again back at the hotel. They sat at the window seat, legs and arms crossed. Aziraphale padded to the bathroom. He had a quick shower, and changed. Crowley was still sitting at the window when he returned. Wringing his hands he stood behind them. He touched their shoulder. 

‘Crowley?’ 

They pulled him close, an arm around his waist, their head resting on his chest. He stroked their hair, chewing his lip, ‘You know, I don’t make any claims on you. You’re free to live as you want. What I should have said before is that...if you wanted to explore things without me, with others, you are free to.’ 

‘Angel, I have never been interested in sex,’ They said softly. ‘I went thousands of years without, and being more than happy with being your friend. I love you. Only you. And because of that I’ve become interested. Partially out of curiosity, partly because I knew it was something you did. But only because I love you.’ They sighed, turning to look at him, his reflection gazing back in their glasses. 

‘You don’t think you’d get bored, only sleeping with me?’ 

Crowley frowned, ‘Will you get bored of me?’ 

‘No,’ Aziraphale shook his head, touching their cheek. ‘Never.’ 

‘Well, there you go,’ Crowley huffed, turning back to the window. They heaved a sigh. Then nuzzled into his chest, bringing their other arm around him, hugging tight. ‘You’re stupid, being jealous of a little human.’ 

‘You did bounce...’ 

‘And I got us free shit,’ they chuckled weakly. ‘Really, Angel, being jealous of a human when I’ve been beside you for so long.’ 

Aziraphale kissed their hair, eyes half closed. ‘You have,’ He sighed. ‘My sweet love. I didn’t mean to upset you.’ 

‘Yeah, I know,’ Crowley said. They wriggled aside, pulling him down to sit beside them. They flung their legs over his lap, arms around his shoulders. They kissed him softly with a sigh.

Aziraphale rubbed Crowley’s back, remorse filling him. He wanted to keep apologising but knew that would only serve to ease his burden – It wouldn’t help Crowley if he sat there scolding himself forever. But he wanted to make up for it anyway.

He pulled back. ‘Darling, let’s go for a drive.’ 

***

'Turn left at the next intersection,' Aziraphale said, looking between the map and road outside.

Crowley grunted, swinging the car around sharply, 'Where are we going?'

'It's a surprise. You'll like it when we get there,' I hope, he added silently to himself. It was another twenty minutes until the entrance honed into view. Crowley slammed on the breaks. They frowned at the large sign, then turned to Aziraphale. 'That’s a nursery.'

'It is!' He beamed, a notch of worry in his brows. 'I thought as a treat I would buy you anything you want from here. If anything catches your eye.'

'Anything?'

'I feel we may be limited by what you can fit in your vehicle, but yes, in theory, anything-!' Crowley kissed him teeth-knockingly hard. They clambered over the gear stick; one bony knee lodged in his thigh.

'Jesus Christ!' He laughed, pushing them back.

'Nah, not buying him,' Crowley grinned, hurrying out of the car. Oh lord, what have I unleashed thought the angel as he followed his love. 

The nursery was a series of sheds lined up, each opening onto the open air market. Gravel crunched underfoot. Tools hung from the walls inside the main building. Bags of fertiliser lined the aisles. And rows upon rows of plants, seedlings and all manner of garden ornaments filled the spaces. Aziraphale found a trolley, and trotted behind Crowley as they stepped outside. 

The demon’s grin grew impossibly wide, white teeth gleaming pinpoints, 'Hello babies.'

A strange hush fell across the plants. Aziraphale felt a chill wind. He gripped the handle of the flatbed trolley, squaring his shoulders. Crowley ran their fingers over quivering leaf and trembling petal with an odd kind of tenderness, like a headmistress who could spot an untucked shirt a mile away. Aziraphale felt... a stirring.

The click clack of their heels echoed through the sheds. The human staff did not approach as Crowley stalked around, hands on their hips. How intense their gaze was, how exacting their standards. A fern was the first selected, a maiden hair in a hanging basket. Next was a monstera, because Crowley liked to be on trend. Then they stopped, and stared at Aziraphale, head cocked to one side. He shifted uneasily under their gaze – then jolted when they strode past him without a word. Bushels of lavender were next, and a miniature lemon tree, two choices that baffled Aziraphale. He followed his love as they grabbed new pots, and fertiliser.

'Hey look, it's you,' Crowley snickered, pointing to a statue of a naked cherub. They nipped at his ear, smacking his backside, 'They really captured your cute lil' arse.'

'Oh honestly, can't take you anywhere!’ Cheeks blazing red, Aziraphale glared at Crowley, fussing with his jacket. That was an infraction his sweet demon was going to pay for when they got home.

A lovely young man helped them load the car. Aziraphale sat in the passenger seat, holding the small lemon tree between his knees while Crowley repacked the entire haul muttering under their breath. Satisfied, they clambered back in, grinning from ear to ear.

'Happy with your choices, my darling?' Aziraphale asked. Crowley gripped him by the nape, drawing him in for a kiss. 'Abso-fucking-lutely.'

They drove in silence, the weak sun filtering through the woodlands. The demon actually drove in a somewhat sedate pace, humming quietly to themself.

'I didn't think you usually picked fruiting trees,' Aziraphale said, watching the world go by out the window.

'Not usually my bag, but I figured you could put em in your tea.'

Aziraphale looked down at the lemon tree. Oh. Oh! His eyes misted. He tugged a hanky out of his top pocket, biting his lip.

'Are you...babe, are you crying?' They reached over, patting his knee awkwardly, 'What's going on?'

How could he even begin to explain? Aziraphale took their hand, laughing softly, 'I'm being a bit of a sook, darling. It's just...you're so thoughtful – don't make that face, you are!'

'Didn't think having lemon in your tea was gonna be such a big deal-'

'It's not the tea, you fool! It's lemons that you'd have grown!' He laughed, giving their hand a squeeze, 'That's the big deal!'

Aziraphale hugged the lemon tree, heart full to bursting. What were the pair of them doing? They'd been intertwined for the majority of their lives, why were they now slowing down? And at his behest again? Crowley wanted to move in, but he said no. Crowley wanted him so much, and he met them measure for measure. He set his jaw. Aziraphale was not going to be the one to slow down now. 

'Crowley?'

'Hmm?' They took a corner at speed, swinging on the wheel.

'Crowley!'

'What?!'

'Marry me.'

The demon laughed, 'Pull the other one, doll, it's got bells on.'

'I'm serious. Crowley, will you marry me?'

The Bentley screeched to a halt, crashing up onto a verge. Behind them a heavy truck blasted its horn. Crowley stared at him. Then scrambled out of the car. Aziraphale followed suit, swearing under his breath. Crowley was pacing, hands on their hips. They waved a shaking finger at him, 'You better not be pulling my leg!'

'I would never! Not about this!' Aziraphale balled his fists. He trembled. This was not the reaction he'd expected.

'You don't want to live with me!' Crowley shouted, hands in their hair.

'I do!' Aziraphale threw up his arms, 'I always have!'

Crowley fell into a crouch, growling, hands covering their face, 'How long have you been planning this?’ 

Uh oh. Aziraphale fussed at his shirt sleeve, swallowing. ‘Well, “plan” is a strong word-’ 

‘You haven’t planned?’ Crowley hooted with laughter, falling backwards onto their arse. ‘You?! You’re the one going fast now?’ 

‘Crowley! Take this seriously-’ 

‘Oh I am! Like a fucking heart attack, babe!’ The leapt to their feet, grin wide and wild. ‘Do you have a ring?’ 

‘...No,’ He fiddled with his signet. ‘Well not except for this-’ 

‘Don’t want that,’ Crowley waved a hand. They paced back and forth, arms waving wildly, ‘You don’t have a ring! Or a plan!’ They laughed again, beaming, ‘Angel, honestly! We don’t even have a house-’ 

‘I’ll fucking build you one!’ Aziraphale snapped, ‘Just answer me, you beast! Will you marry me?’ 

‘Yeah, obviously!’ They laughed, hysterical. ‘Once you propose properly. I want a ring. A pretty one!’ 

‘You’ll get it,’ He said, tears welling. ‘You’ll get everything you want.’ 

In movements too fast for him to catch, Crowley appeared before Aziraphale, pushing him hard against the car, the kiss scorching. A hand in his hair, their knee on the bonnet, Crowley pressed furiously to him. And the angel let himself be overpowered. He welcomed their fire, their passion. He loved the hunger Crowley had, how they always drew him in. The kiss broke, angel and demon panting. 

Crowley growled low in their chest, 'All that because I said I'd grow you a lemon.' They snickered when Aziraphale rolled his eyes. 'Better save telling you want I'm going to do with that lavender for another day, then,' They kissed his forehead, arms around his shoulders.

'You are an absolute monster,' Aziraphale laughed. He slipped his hand into the back pocket of their jeans.

'And you're building me a house!'

Aziraphale groaned, 'Well, we could also just buy one or-'

'You build the house, I'll do the garden, we'll meet in the middle and then you'll propose to me properly,' Crowley popped a kiss to his nose, stepping back. They waved for him to get back into the car.

'What do you mean "properly"?' He asked, hurrying back to the passenger side. 'We're engaged-'

'No ring,' Crowley wiggled their fingers at him. 'Not proper without a ring.'

'Do I have to ask your father for permission as well?' Aziraphale scoffed. He picked up the lemon tree, hugging it once more.

'Ha! That'd be tricky as all get out,' Crowley threw the car into gear, hurtling back onto the road.

'If I knew you'd be such a demanding bride, maybe I wouldn't have proposed.'

'Hey,' Crowley laughed. 'One: You did know. Two: You said the house thing, not me. And finally, three: I'm going to be the best fucking bride that has ever brided!' 

‘We should go out,’ Aziraphale said, ‘For drinks to celebrate!’ 

‘Tonight!’

***

Aziraphale took himself out for dinner. It was only at the hotel, but it was nice. Crowley stayed in the room, having a stern talking to with their new plants. They had demanded time alone to get ready and he was not going to argue. 

Aziraphale sat at the bar, sipping a cocktail and thumbing through a book. Every time the door opened, he looked up – but it was other guests or staff. Never Crowley. They were late. Nerves brewed in his stomach. He still felt so nervous on dates with them. Everything was new and exciting. 

He heard the crying before he saw who it came from. He looked up from his book in time to see a manager cruelly berating one of the young maids – the same maid, he realised, who had brought their dinner up the first night. 

Aziraphale bristled. He kept his head down as if reading, but anger bloomed. The needless cruelty of people would always throw him off balance. He believed, deep down, everyone had kindness, everyone had goodness within. Being cruel was too easy, it was a surface act, and therefore was something one must actively work against. He held Crowley up as a fine example of this. They could so easily be cruel, be vile and nasty. They wreaked havoc for many years, they did their Hellish duty – however it wasn't exactly in their nature. 

They were good at mischief; they were a liar and a scoundrel. Yet Crowley also had so much kindness in them, even in their smallest acts. They'd heal a pigeon. And maybe a demon cannot feel love in the way an angel, or even a human, could – but by making the active choice every single day of their existence to spend time with him, listen to him and care for him, did that not speak volumes to the depth of love and kindness a supposedly damned creature could hold?

He sent a little thought into the world, hoping the manager found a little kindness within (and that the maid would find the world much kinder to her in the coming days). He took a sip of his drink, twirling the garish umbrella between two fingers.

The doors opened again. And when he looked up, Aziraphale very nearly dropped his book. Crowley was gorgeous – in his eyes they were always stunning – but tonight they were especially breath taking. They wore a simple black dress that hugged their body perfectly, he couldn't take his eyes of the sway of their hips and their nipped in waist. The dress was high-necked and sleeveless. A thin gold chain hung down around their neck, matched by small gold studs in their ears. Crowley had pulled their hair up into a charming swoop of messy curls, a couple of strands hanging down to frame their face. Their black sunglasses even had little swirls of gold. Lips painted in a deep blood red; Crowley smiled at him.

'You're a vision,' Aziraphale whispered in awe, rising to kiss Crowley's cheek.

They giggled softly, 'Thanks Angel, sorry I'm late.'

'The wait was worth it. Would you like a drink?'

With his drink refreshed, and Crowley supplied with their own garish cocktail the world seemed to settle back into place. This was where he was meant to be. With them. He wanted nothing more out of life than to have his love by his side and his books. Oh, and sushi. And maybe that bottle of single malt – he wanted a few things out of life, but Crowley was top of the list. 

After a few drinks, the companions took a walk. Arm in arm they wandered, like any couple deeply in love. Crowley bumped their hip to his, nodding to the beach now cloaked in night.

They wandered down to the seaside, holding their heels in their hand. He followed at a distance, watching them in the dark. The wind whipped their hair around. They shivered, rubbing their bare arms. With a quick miracle, Aziraphale produced a tartan blanket and draped it over their shoulders. Crowley looked at him, their glasses reflecting the distant lights behind him. Aziraphale stroked his fingertips over the plane of their cheekbone, smiling when they turned to his touch, pressing a kiss to his palm. They dropped their shoes onto the sand, then sat, reaching for his hand.

Aziraphale joined them, legs folded, their hand clasped in both of his. There was something in the air. He didn't know what compelled them to wander out here, what they were looking for, but it didn't matter. He would sit with them forever.

Crowley lay down, taking their hand from him and now resting their arm over his knee.

'I made that one,' they whispered, pointing to the stars. Aziraphale looked up, and sighed. The sky was so clear here, far from the constant light of the city, and seemed to open up as if asking you to fall head first into its dark.

'What did you name it?' He asked.

'Don't remember. I had notes. Probably long gone now, though,' They folded their arm behind their head with a sigh. 'I bet She burned them.'

Aziraphale winced at the bitterness in their voice. He lay down beside them, hands folded on his stomach. 'I don't know if She does things like that-'

'Maybe not. Maybe they're filed away somewhere with a tidy little label that says, "Notes on how to build really good stars by that massive dipshit who's name I stole"-'

'Stop it,' Azirpahale sat up again. He knelt beside Crowley, 'I won't hear you talk about yourself like that. What's brought this on?’ 

Crowley took their glasses off, heaving a sigh, ‘Sometimes I can tell when one of my stars is gone and recently I’ve been...remembering things a lot more. I used to build such beautiful things,’ They said softly, looking back up to the sky. ‘And eventually, one by one they will die and never be replaced.’ 

‘Oh, Crowley-’ 

‘There’s a guy, a reverend, in Australia who’s spotted like a dozen of my stars hitting supernova. Only caught one of mine on camera though,’ They frowned. ‘I’ll never get to see that. Or make anything as great again.’ 

Aziraphale took their hand, ‘You have beautiful things. You have your plants-’’ 

Crowley scoffed, ‘A sad little Eden in a London apartment does not compare to the birth and death of stars, Angel.’ They shrugged, ‘I had dreamed of seeing my supernovae. Gotta be content with a fucking Australian seeing more of them than I ever will. I wish you could have seen what I’d built. Truly see it!’ 

The angel watched them in silence for a moment. Then he cupped their cheeks, making them look at him, ‘Crowley, you can still build beautiful things. Maybe not as grand, but you can. We can build it together. We’ll have a garden. And...and a huge deck! With the biggest telescope you want! We can build our own little star, my love. It could be beautiful.’ 

Their eyes shone with tears, and while he could see the ever present shadows in their depths, Aziraphale also saw hope. He drew them in, holding them gently to his soft body. Once again, he wrapped the tartan blanket around their shoulders. He kissed them softly, ‘I love you, Crowley. Now let’s go buy some wine and have a spa.’ 

Bottle shop raided, Crowley and Aziraphale hurried back to the hotel. Aziraphale was first in the room, and he turned on the taps. As the water churned, he got undressed, laughing as Crowley giddily uncorked a bottle. They took a swig directly from it, handing it to him, ‘Not bad!’ 

Layer by layer he watched Crowley undress. He drank from the bottle, watching as they shimmied out of their dress, and let their hair down. They met his eye over their shoulder, and smiled. It was small, and tinged with shyness, but this time they didn’t ask him to look away. Instead they moved to stand in front of the mirror, looking over themself. 

Aziraphale settled in the tub, leaning back. He watched Crowley with interest as they examined themself in the mirror. They turned one way, then another, the planes of their body catching the light. They were so beautiful. Aziraphale would never get used to just how stunning of they were. 

Crowley ran their hands over their body, their form shifting and changing in subtle ways. Their hips narrowed, shoulders broadened. When their hands left their chest Aziraphale bit his lip. Their breasts were gone, and gold rings hung from their nipples. Crowley hummed happily, the vain creature. They caught his eye in the mirror, smirking. 

‘Any additions you’d like to make?’ They asked Aziraphale, lazily gesturing to their body. With a quiet snap of his fingers, a gold chain looped around their narrow waist, a heavy gold band at their throat. Crowley chewed their lip, tapping the band with their nail, ‘Oh?’ 

‘You did ask.’ 

They laughed, sauntering over to him. Aziraphale watched the shift of their body, lithe muscles. And he could not take his eyes off of their new cock. Crowley sat on the edge of the bath, leaning in, hands on either side of the angel. 

Crowley’s hair hung in soft waves, cascading over their shoulders. Aziraphale stroked their hair back behind their ear, trailing fingertips over their cheekbone. 

‘My love,’ Aziraphale cooed, throat tight. ‘You’re the most beautiful thing in the world.’ 

‘You certainly make me feel like it,’ they whispered. 

Aziraphale cupped their cheek, ‘Truly?’ 

Crowley nodded, standing up. They climbed into the water, kneeling in front of him, ‘You do. Gonna give me an ego.’ 

‘Give?’ Aziraphale, ‘Honey, you’ve got enough of an ego without my help.’ He hooked his finger through the loop on the band around their neck, pulling them in. Crowley hummed, hands on the angel’s thighs, lips parted softly. 

‘So that’s what this is for,’ They mused breathlessly, ‘And here I thought you’d given me a necklace. But oh no, the kinky angel has collared himself a demon.’

‘He has indeed,’ Aziraphale smirked. ‘And how lucky he is, to have caught such a fine creature.’ He let them go, twirling his finger in the air, ‘Turn around, I want to hold you.’ 

Crowley settled against him, their back to his chest. He felt them shiver as the heat seeped into their body. Aziraphale hugged them, kissing their hair. They relaxed against him and stretched out in the water. 

He ran his hands over the flat of their stomach, along their ribs and up to their chest. He bit his lip, then gave one of the nipple rings a tentative flick. Crowley gasped, pressing back into him. 

‘These are pretty,’ Aziraphale mused, stroking his fingers around their new adornments. Crowley’s head tipped back onto his shoulder, ‘Something a little different.’ 

‘Indeed,’ He ran his thumb gently over one nipple, catching the ring ever so slightly. ‘How do they affect the sensation?’ 

Crowley hummed, ‘It’s...more.’ They sucked in a sharp breath when he gave them another flick. Fingernails dug into his thighs. Lazily he toyed with one of the rings, making Crowley whine, while his other hand gently tugged on the gold chain around their waist, ‘Gold really suits you, Crowley.’ 

They gave a breathy laugh, ‘You certainly think so.’ 

‘Oh I do! You should wear jewellery more often, especially when it-’ he flicked the ring again, ‘makes my work so much easier.’ He swapped hands, working on their other nipple. He reached down into the water again, this time wrapping his hand around their already hard cock. Crowley groaned, hips quickening at the touch. 

Aziraphale hushed them, pressing his hand to the flat of their abdomen, ‘Now, now my love, all in good time.’ And yet as he spoke softly by their ear, he stroked their cock as slowly as he could. The demon gasped and arched their back, and even through the water he could see their toes curling. 

‘I’ll be curious to know how different this feels compared to your previous anatomy,’ he said as conversationally he could while he stroked their cock, making his lover squirm. Crowley reached to tangle their hand in his hair, but he took it away and instead placed their hand firmly on the edge of the tub. ‘Both hands here, if you would old chap. I want to have my way with out distraction.’

Crowley growled low, and he could see their fangs beginning to grow, but they did as they were told. He was going to be bitten tonight, he realised with a thrill, and he would deserve it. So he may as well make it worth while. 

His grip on them was firm but slow. Crowley hissed when he ran his thumb over the head of their cock. Knuckles white as they gripped the tub edge, the demon moaned and whimpered, back arched as Aziraphale touched them. They were undone. Open to him and gasping. With a kiss to their temple, he sped up. And clamped his hand over their mouth. Crowley’s muffled cries of pleasure were perfect. Soft and wordless, the sound made his skin heat up, his body reacting to their writhing. But he wasn’t going to give in to it himself just yet. 

They cried out his name against his palm, body shaking. When they came he didn’t stop his firm movement until they quivered and pressed back against him, their grip on the bath tub weakening. He took his hands away from them. Crowley turned instantly, burying their face against his neck. He held them, tickling his nails along their spine. 

Crowley laughed weakly, ‘Okay, yup. Different.’ 

‘Good?’  
‘Oh yeah,’ They ran their tongue along the pulse point in his neck. ‘But different.’ He felt their teeth graze, and he smirked, ‘You’re controlling yourself very well, dear boy. I half expected to have your teeth on me by now.’ 

‘Don’t trusssst mysssself not to go too hard,’ They whispered. ‘I don’t wanna hurt you...in a not fun way.’ 

Aziraphale cooed, scratching their scalp. They hummed, eyes closing happily. ‘Sweet one,’ He whispered, ‘you’re very good.’ 

Crowley did not rebuke this. Instead they pressed kisses to his neck and jaw, drawing lazy circles on his chest. Eventually the demon began to shiver, and the pair left the bath. Drying off they returned to the bedroom. Aziraphale climbed into the bed, but Crowley stopped, biting their lip. 

‘Angel, do you want me to uh...get you off?’ 

He blinked, then laughed, ‘Charming way to put it.’ He patted the bedding, drawing them onto the bed. ‘I would like to lay with you, but obviously only if you were keen.’ 

‘Oh, I am! Jussst tell me how you wanna go,’ They grinned, hands on his thighs. He cupped their cheeks, kissing one temple then the other and back again as he whispered, ‘I would like to have you on your back, and I want to watch you come undone again as I fuck you.’ 

Crowley shivered, and nodded, eyes wide with anticipation. With Aziraphale’s silent guidance they lay back, hair fanning out over the pillows. They bit their lower lip, watching him as he took a spare pillow. ‘Lift you hips up,’ He instructed and wriggled the pillow under them. ‘That should make things a bit more comfy.’ 

‘Hey, Angel?’ Cheeks flushed pink, Crowley nervously picked at the bedding, ‘Could you tie my armsss again?’ 

‘Of course,’ Aziraphale gently took their wrists in hand, massaging them as he lifted their arms behind their head. With wrist to opposite elbow he bound their arms in the same gold rope, then secured them to the headboard, ‘How is that?’ 

They wriggled for a moment, then nodded, ‘Good!’ 

‘Your shoulders feel okay?’ 

Crowley nodded again, ‘’Sss all good.’ 

‘Perfect,’ Aziraphale kissed them sweetly, hands on their sides. ‘Do you feel safe?’ 

‘Yesss,’ Crowley whispered, expression softening. Breathing deepening and slowing down, they gazed up at him. So perfect and open. Aziraphale stroked his hands down their body, massaging their thighs before parting them. His body ached for them, for their heat. 

Bringing his thumb to their arsehole, he slowly started massaging them. He slicked his fingers and very slowly pressed one into them. Crowley breathed out a soft, ‘Oh!’ Muscles tightened, then relaxed. Soon he was able to press another finger inside, then a third. 

Much to Aziraphale’s enjoyment Crowley began to harden again. He leaned in, catching the head in his mouth. He ran his tongue along the sensitive skin, making his lover gasp. They squirmed, pulling on the binds, eyes lashes fluttering. Their ripe pink cheeks and loose curls of hair a beautiful sight. And Aziraphale had only just begun. 

Positioning himself between their legs, Aziraphale removed his fingers from them. He slicked his cock, then slowly brought himself to Crowley. They whined as they stretched around him, legs wrapping around his hips, pulling him deeper. He felt the flutter of their breath, the quivering of their body as he filled them. He picked his rhythm, and dove into their heat. 

Pleasure pulled through him, scorching and all encompassing. Crowley rolled their body to meet him, cock slick with their own precum. He gripped them by the thigh, other hand firm on their cock. And he let himself give in. Aziraphale took all he needed from their body, from them. Crowley cried out in pleasure, flushed to the navel, eyes firmly shut as they rode out his desire. Thighs quivering, they spilled over their stomach, voice hitching higher as he came inside them. Bodies matched and aching they both began to still. 

When they broke apart, the ropes vanished and Crowley was the one to magic away their mess. Aziraphale flopped onto the bed beside them, short hair stuck to his forehead from sweat. His demon love drew him to their chest, cradling his head over their heart. Still quivering, their peppered the top of his head with kisses, while he listened to the beat of their heart. It was arrhythmic and weak. 

He didn’t know when but Crowley pulled the blankets over them. He was vaguely aware he was dozing, warm and safe in their arms. They nuzzled into his hair, and whispered, ‘My betrothed.’ 

‘...Affianced,’ He whispered back. 

Crowley gave a throaty chuckle, curling their body to his. ‘We should go home soon,’ They whispered. 

‘We should,’ Aziraphale yawned. ‘But lets not think about that right now.’ 

Crowley hummed, ‘Yeah. Hey Angel?’ 

‘Hmm?’ 

‘Love you.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of part one! 
> 
> Thanks for taking the time to read and comment, it means the world to me! 
> 
> If you're interested in seeing other work i do, or just wanna have a chat I'm on Instagram as neongoblineart :D 
> 
> Part two will be up next week! (I'll be keeping to the same schedule as before) 
> 
> Thanks again!!


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